


got a curse we cannot lift

by planbdanceroutine



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood Pacts, Implied/Referenced Mind Control (Past), Like Glacially So, M/M, Mind Meld, Post Episode C2E44: The Diver's Grave, Slow Burn, Soul Bond
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2019-01-24
Packaged: 2019-09-14 11:48:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 32,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16912314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/planbdanceroutine/pseuds/planbdanceroutine
Summary: A handshake between Caleb and Fjord has unintended consequences, and the two men find themselves sharing more than blood.Featuring: two men sharing figurative and literal dreams, heartfelt conversations over porridge, and emotional repression.





	1. Lay Hands On Me

**Author's Note:**

> _I know, not exactly the most exciting curse you've ever heard of, huh?_  
>  Caleb frowns. _You think this is a curse, then?_  
>  _Well, what else would you call it?_
> 
> Fic title and introductory quote are borrowed from TV On The Radio's "Wolf Like Me", a song that is ostensibly either about werewolves and/or fucking, and yet works so well with this fic.
> 
> As much of this story was outlined prior to last week's episode, it unfortunately contains no mention of Twiggy, though it does make use of Deborah's brilliant "fuck far from here," so, checks and balances.
> 
> I apologize terribly for the already bloated length of this fic. My entire thought process through writing this fic was, "oh good, this'll be a short scene," and then none of them were. Next chapter will be shorter, promise.

 

### Part I.

_Won't you lay hands on me?_

***

Where Caleb is from, blood pacts aren't taken lightly. The idea conjures up the feeling of desperation that so often found its home in his village, of the warnings from elders against making dangerous promises in blood. _"Caleb, it matters not to Mephistopheles whether you bargain your soul for power, or for magic, or for bread,"_ his Oma had once told him, _"because no matter the reward, the price is always blood, and Mephistopheles rarely forgets his debtors."_

So it's surprising, to say the least, when Fjord slides his cut palm against Caleb's, easy as anything. It stings at first, the salt water and blood being forced into his cut hand. Beyond the initial contact, past the shock and sting of it all, Caleb's hand pulses once and then twice before Fjord pulls his hand away from Caleb's and it passes.

Probably nothing.

Maybe something.

But he's weak from the blood loss, from the letting, and so it slips from his mind. He's distracted- it never becomes easier to see so much of his own blood outside of his body, and watching it mingle with Fjord's and drift away with the saltwater is nauseating. He's used to burning, at least it cauterizes.

He nods dumbly at Fjord, following his lead. He's belatedly struck by a familiar warmth, and he turns behind him to see Jester with her hands raised, magic fading from her fingertips. "Thank you," he says, a soft smile on his face. He feels much better, still weakened, but no longer dangling from the precipice.

Jester frowns back at him, tilting her head to the side. She looks past him towards Fjord, before pointedly turning her eyes to the pedestal and then Caleb. She shakes her head.

The smile falls from Caleb's face. He nods towards her and then turns to follow Fjord out of the lair. He doesn't turn back, but he can feel Jester's eyes on him regardless.

Later, after Caduceus has used his magic to propel them all to the surface, Caleb catches the rope ladder tossed to him with his right hand and feels his palm burn. He ignores the stinging in his hand as he climbs the ladder and hoists himself over the rail. A smear of blood is left behind on the rail, and he wipes it off with his coat sleeve. Despite Jester's earlier healing, blood continues to drip from his palm. He surreptitiously pulls the wet bandages wrapped around his arm over his palm to at least hide the flow of blood. Caleb glances up to see if anyone has noticed him doing so, but the rest of the Nein appear to be distracted by the storm that begins to set in around them.

Caleb searches out Fjord and spots him staring up at the storm above, his hair wet and dangling in his face. Fjord reaches with his right hand to push the hair back from his eyes, and when his hand returns to his side a streak of blood is left in his hair. A hollow, sinking feeling that Caleb does not quite have a name for sits low in his gut. "Caleb," Fjord greets, eyes lowering to acknowledge him. He quirks an eyebrow upward towards the storm. "Do you think-?"

Caleb quirks an eyebrow in kind, and coughs to clear his throat. "Who can say?" He asks, when what he means to say is _Yes_. But he will allow Fjord to take the out, here, if that is what he wants.

Fjord nods. "Right." And like that, the issue is dropped.

Caleb instinctively reaches forward to tap Fjord's shoulder, and is caught off guard by the _surprise_ he feels when makes contact. He's bewildered by the undue shock- he made contact with Fjord, what about this should be surprising to him? Moving past it, he leans towards Fjord and says lowly, "you have blood in your hair, freund."

"Thank you for letting me know," Fjord says, just as hushed.

Caleb nods and turns to join the rest of the group on the deck. The storm continues to roll in from the west, and the crew will need all the help they can get if they want to make it out unscathed, the ship already hobbled as it is. He spares one last look back at Fjord, and watches as he carefully combs through his hair with his left hand, before staring at the blood continuously dripping from his right.

Caleb sets the image aside to puzzle out later. There's simply no time for it, not when there's ropes to tie and sails to unfurl. He throws himself into the work, helping out where he can, and somehow, like everything else so far, they survive it.

After everything has settled, he bids goodnight to his group and writes in his journal with his good hand until it is cramping. He goes to sleep that night exhausted, his mind clear of even the faintest thought.

When Caleb wakes in the morning, he unwraps his bandages and finds that the cut on his palm has knitted over with scar tissue, appearing almost translucent in the faint lantern glow. It no longer stings, but when he traces his fingers wondrously over it, it pulses faintly again. Softly once and then twice.

It's probably nothing.

But maybe something.

Many weeks earlier, in different circumstances, Caleb had told Fjord that he was a fan of calculated risks, _"if the reward is good and it's not stupid."_ Fjord had grinned broadly, the high of having wagered against the Gentleman and won shining so brightly on his face, and had said, _"sometimes you gotta get a little stupid, though."_

He thinks of his Oma, who thought it was better to starve to death than eat bread offered by the devil. He thinks of Fjord, who promised Caleb a favor in blood, not out of desperation, but because of a curiosity that Caleb had helped to satiate. He thinks of Fjord, who has now risked more than money for himself and for the Nein, and wonders how stupid he is prepared to get.

 

***

"Are you feeling better, now, Caleb?" Jester asks, over breakfast. "You lost, like, a lot of blood yesterday."

Beside him Nott stirs. "Why? What happened to Caleb?"

"The merrow harpooned me, Nott, remember?" Caleb says gently, his eyes steady on Jester. "Yes, I am feeling much better now. All thanks to you, Jester."

Jester glances between Nott and Caleb, worry evident on her face, perhaps torn between wanting to tell Nott about the pedestal and wanting to keep Caleb's secret. "Oh, it's no problem," she says. "But you're welcome, Caleb."

"Of course I remember you were harpooned," Nott says, bitterly. "And don't think I've forgotten that this is all Fjord's fault! Oh let's go underwater, let's go sacrifice ourselves to a fish monster!"

"What's my fault?" Fjord asks as he enters the room, glancing over at Nott while doing so. He hesitates for a second, as if surprised by the vitriol on Nott's face. Fjord shifts his gaze towards Caleb, lifting an eyebrow.

Caleb simply shrugs in response. It's better to let Nott have her say now, instead of letting her feelings build into resentment over the rest of their voyage.

Fjord rolls his eyes at Caleb, which is amusing. He should have known that Caleb would side with Nott. Nott scoffs indignantly beside Caleb, and Caleb tries desperately to reign in the small smile he feels starting to form, knowing that Nott misinterpreted the gesture as being directed towards her.

Caduceus chuckles to himself softly, raising a bowl towards Fjord. "Here you go, Fjord, breakfast. It's not much, but... well, it's edible."

"Thank you, Caduceus," Fjord says, accepting the bowl and sitting down across the table beside Jester. "Now Nott, sorry for interrupting. What was it that was my fault, again?"

Nott narrows her eyes at Fjord, her hand rising from the table to point towards him. "Oh, don't act like you don't know! Hey Nott, why don't you go jump in the ocean and look for buttons? I know you don't like the water, but don't worry, there will be shiny things! C'mon everybody, let's go risk our lives trying to kill a sea hag because I'm married to a fish monster!"

"I'm not married to a fish monster," Fjord hisses. "Uk'otoa-"

"Uk'otoa," Jester whispers, reverently.

Fjord pauses. "Look, if this is about the buttons, I'm sorry, Nott. I didn't mean to be condescending, I had only hoped to make things easier for you."

"Look," Nott says, indignantly, "I'll admit I'm a little upset about the buttons, but more importantly, Caleb almost died yesterday! Twice!"

"I know," Fjord says, shifting uncomfortably in his seat, "and I'm truly sorry about that. It's... not ideal, but-"

"Not ideal?!"

Caleb sighs deeply and turns to face Nott, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Nott, Fjord has already said sorry for what happened. And he's right, it was not ideal, what happened, but Fjord did not force me to make any choices I did not want to make. We are a team here, and right now, we are supporting Fjord," he says, gently, squeezing Nott's shoulder once, before blindly reaching out with his other hand to tap Fjord's.

"Why do you keep doing that?" Fjord asks, and Caleb yanks back his hand.

"Oh, I didn't mean-" Caleb says, turning to look at Fjord to apologize, only to find Fjord and the rest of the group staring back at him quizzically. "I thought... I'm sorry, Fjord, did you say something?"

Caduceus looks between Fjord and Caleb as if considering something, and says, "I don't think I heard Fjord say anything, Caleb."

But Caleb knows what he heard, and so he looks between his hand hovering in the air and Fjord, and wonders. Slowly and deliberately, he places the pad of his thumb against Fjord's forearm, and feels the same foreign sense of surprise that he felt yesterday mixed with a new layer of frustration. He locks eyes with Fjord, and hoping he's wrong, he thinks, _Fjord, did you say something?_

There's several moments of silence as Fjord stares back at Caleb blankly, and Caleb starts to believe he's miscalculated. Then Fjord shifts his gaze down to where Caleb's thumb rests on his arm. _Not out loud,_ Fjord says without speaking, and Caleb feels his own dread magnify two-fold.

"Huh," Caduceus says.

Jester frowns. "Caleb, are you sure you're feeling okay?"

"No, Jester," Caleb says, "I don't think I am."

"What's wrong, Caleb?" Nott asks, argument forgotten. "Do you need Jester to heal you?"

"It's probably sea sickness," Caduceus says, a slight smile on his face. "We had some rough waves last night with the storm, I know I'm feeling a little unsteady myself this morning. Maybe you should go get some rest, Caleb."

Caleb nods. "You're probably right Caduceus," he says, standing up from the table. The nauseating sense of dread alleviates some when he removes his hand from Fjord. "Uh, I'll try to be back soon. Lots of sailing ahead of us."

"Oh, no rush," Caduceus says evenly, glancing down at Caleb's right hand and the scar that Caleb knows to be there. "Jester's right, you lost a lot of blood yesterday, you might want to take it easy."

Caleb shoves his hands in his pockets, and for lack of anything better to say, turns to leave the room.

"Oh, and Caleb?" Caduceus calls after him. "If you see Beau or Yasha on your way could you send them over for breakfast?"

"Of course," Caleb says, and flees.

 

***

Caleb spends his day in bed, taking advantage of the reprieve that Caduceus had given him. He traces his fingers over the spine of his journal, mentally reviewing the conversation he had with Fjord in Dashilla's lair. In the back of his brain, he hears Fjord say, _"aren't you the least bit curious?"_

And Caleb had been curious, but not about the pedestal. He had studied the pedestal and found himself impressed by the nature and power of the conjuration magic, but he had, at most, the same sort of detached interest he would've had if he had been reading about the pedestal in a book from Beau's library. No, he'd been far more curious about Fjord and how far he was willing to go to get answers.

It's not a new sense of curiosity, either. He's been wondering about Fjord since... well, since Fjord had thrust the first orb into his chest in the merrow nest. How Fjord had propelled himself crushingly forward since, feet stumbling over each other, in pursuit of answers. Leading- one devastating hiccup aside- to the Mistake, to piracy, and to Avantika. How Fjord had compromised himself there, at Caleb's misguided urging. He had not understood, at the time, what he had been asking of Fjord. Though his intention had been clear, he had believed Fjord would not do anything he was unwilling to do. But Fjord had, for the sake of the group.

He closes his eyes and he is back at the Gentleman's, and Beau is saying, _"Fjord, you cannot keep blaming yourself when you were the victim in this circumstance. You understand that, right?"_

_Fjord disagrees and Beau rebuts as Caleb offers up his own clumsy reassurance. "Ja, you cannot blame yourself when you are... taken advantage of, you know what I mean?"_

_Fjord shakes his head, and looks at the two of them, looks at Caleb, and says, "you don't understand, though. My whole life was... trying to blend in, trying to keep an eye out for someone that was looking to take advantage, that was gonna exploit. And I got comfortable. I felt relaxed."_

Caleb opens his eyes and he is back in his quarters, but the conversation remains the same. The guilt Caleb feels is not unfamiliar, but the source of it is new, and Caleb worries he may never be able to atone for what he has done to Fjord.

He cracks open his journal and writes a reminder and a vow. _You are not Trent Ikithon. You will not break the will of others for your own gain._

He is just holstering his journal when he hears the rap at the door. "Nott?"

"It's Fjord."

Caleb nods before remembering that Fjord cannot see him. "You can come in, Fjord."

Fjord quietly opens the door and closes it behind him. The expression on his face is carefully blank and would be difficult to read, if not for how Caleb has become accustomed to Fjord's tells. Fjord is clenching his jaw and his eyebrows wear the slightest furrow- Caleb recognizes the expression from losses after carnival games and coming back to himself in a lair to find the cloven crystal gone. Fjord is puzzled at an outcome he does not fully understand. "Feeling better?" Fjord asks.

"I think I'll live," Caleb says, dryly.

"Of course," Fjord says seriously, distractedly missing the slight smile Caleb sports. "Caleb, we need to talk about earlier, over breakfast... and you've been here in here all day, you probably haven't eaten since."

"I haven't been hungry," Caleb says. His stomach, woken by the mere mention of food, betrays him by rumbling.

Fjord finally smiles, and some of the tension in the room lifts. "Right. Caduceus just made dinner, you should grab some."

"Let me guess, just as bland as breakfast?"

"'Fraid so."

Caleb laughs. "Can't wait."

"Take your time," Fjord says, "but after you're done, come find me, okay? We need to talk."

"Alright," Caleb says. When he makes no motion to get up from his bed, Fjord nods once before turning and leaving the room.

Only once Fjord has closed the door behind him does Caleb get up. He takes special care to remove his coat and holster, then wraps the material around his books, and gently places them on top of his bed. He makes no effort to hide them, he trusts Nott not to snoop.

 

***

"It's funny," Jester remarks over a dinner that can be best described as questionable porridge. "You look so clean now, because of all the swimming."

"Well, someone did tell me I needed a bath, once," Caleb says, smiling. "Or twice. Three times, maybe?"

Jester winces. "I'm sorry Caleb. I thought you didn't know. Like, you know how sometimes people don't _know_ that they stink? Even though it's really bad?"

"I know, Jester." Caleb says. "And no need to apologize. I appreciate you telling me like it is."

"Even when it's not something you want to hear?"

"Even then."

"Okay," Jester says, voice lilting. "Then I should tell you that I told Caduceus about what you and Fjord did down in the lair. And that I'm worried about you. And Fjord, of course."

Every so often, Caleb is struck by how incredibly smart Jester is. "That was very well played."

"Thank you," Jester beams, basking for a moment in the praise before her expression grows grim. "But I am worried about you, you know? I saw you cut your hand, and I thought maybe she was back and, like, compelling you to do it? But then Fjord was cutting his hand, and you were both losing so much blood, and I had no idea what you were doing."

"I'm not sure I knew what I was doing either," Caleb confides.

Jester eats a bit of her porridge before asking, "did you know, though? Did you know that what you were doing was making that storm?"

"No," Caleb admits. "But does that change anything from if I had known?"

Jester pauses. "I think so," she says, quietly. "Maybe a little."

"It was still reckless."

"We're all reckless," Jester points out. "Except for maybe Caduceus, but I have my eye on him. You didn't do it on purpose though, and I think maybe that's the difference? Like, what separates us from people like Lorenzo, and Avantika, and that guy that was stalking my mom. Those people did bad things on purpose, and they knew they were bad. We're, all of us, mostly-good people. We always try to do the good thing, and yeah, we make mistakes sometimes, but we work to fix those mistakes. And, I think, that's mostly what worried me in the lair. Because that didn't look like a mistake, Caleb, and I didn't see how any good could have come of it."

Caleb clears his throat. "I was following Fjord's lead."

"Are you sure?" Jester asks. "Because from where I was standing, it looked like you cut your hand and then Fjord cut his."

"Fjord had asked- he was curious about what the pedestal could do," Caleb says, "and so I showed him."

"And if Fjord was so curious about the pedestal, why didn't he cut his hand first?"

 _Because then he would not owe me a favor,_ Caleb thinks but does not say, because he knows it is not what Jester will want to hear, and he never agreed to tell her like it is. "I don't know," he says, instead.

"Caleb," Jester says, softly, "I'm worried you're not going to be able to tell Fjord no when he needs to hear it. Or when you need to say it."

"I think we've put the issue to bed for now," Caleb says, "but thank you, Jester, for your concern."

"You're not mad at me, are you?"

"Of course not," Caleb says, startled. The thought hadn't even crossed his mind. "I understand that you're looking out for the group."

Jester smiles kindly. "Clerics, man."

"Jester," Caleb says, reaching out with his hand to grab Jester's own, "if you ever want to discuss this again, please feel free to come and find me. I won't exactly be going far. But there really is something that I must attend to, and I have to go."

Jester squeezes his hand. "Thank you, Caleb."

Caleb, for the second time that day, starts to make a hasty retreat from the dining area. "Good night, Jester."

"Good night, Caleb," Jester echoes. "And if you're looking for Fjord, he's up top on the deck."

Caleb wonders exactly when he became so hopelessly transparent to the rest of the Mighty Nein. "Thanks, freund."

"Happy to help!"

 

***

He finds Fjord right where Jester said he would, towards the bow of the ship, looking out over the railing at the night sky. "I hope I did not keep you waiting," he says, lowly, wary of any deckhands that may be around.

Fjord shakes his head. "It's fine, it turns out I needed some time to gather my thoughts, anyway."

Caleb smiles, thinking of his conversation with Jester. "Something we do so little of. We have a habit of acting, when we should be thinking."

"And that's what I wanted to talk to you about," Fjord says, glancing down at the ocean below. "Well, sort of. Earlier at breakfast... and I know it's just the latest strange thing to happen to us, but I know you heard what I was thinking. I know I for sure heard what you were."

"'Just the latest strange thing' is a good way of putting it," Caleb says, evenly.

Fjord sighs. "Is that all you've got to say about this?"

"No, Fjord," Caleb admits, "but I am following your lead, here. Whatever you think we should do about this, I am open to it."

"That's another thing," Fjord says, softly, finally turning to face Caleb, "I don't... Hell, I don't know what I'm _doing,_ Caleb. I don't want you to follow my lead here. It didn't exactly work out great the last time."

"The last time," Caleb echoes, tapping out a rhythm with his fingers on the railing.

Fjord frowns, brow furrowed. "Can you please stop repeating what I'm saying?"

"Fjord, I promise I am going somewhere with this," Caleb says. "Do you really think that yesterday had nothing to do with this?" He slides his hand over the railing, until his pinky finger just ever so slightly brushes Fjord's clasped hands. He does not catch what Fjord is thinking, exactly, but he feels Fjord's frustration abate into something that feels a little more like resignation.

"I think yesterday was part of it," Fjord says. "Look, I know I didn't feel anything strange when I put my hand on the pedestal. That's why I stopped, because... it didn't feel like it was doing anything. I saw the runes on the walls light up, sure, but it wasn't making anything about me feel different. This thing inside of me- the orb, or the crystal, or whatever you want to call it- it always does something when it has to do with Uk'otoa. Either I see something, or I feel something, or I wake up coughing up salt water. And when I put my hand on the pedestal... all I felt was the cut on my hand and then I felt stupid when nothing happened. But then I clasped your hand, and I felt something strange. I don't know if you felt it, but-"

"I did. I felt a pulse in my hand when you shook it," Caleb interjects.

"And you didn't say anything?"

"I thought maybe you had a firm handshake."

Fjord laughs, leaning back from the railing, hands brushing out of Caleb's reach. "Sure. I'm not exactly Yasha, Caleb."

"And I was bleeding out," Caleb points out. "I wasn't so much thinking about the pulse in my hand as I was thinking about my blood in the water."

Fjord's expression turns steely. "How much blood did you leave on that pedestal?"

"Oh, you know," Caleb says, fidgeting, "as much blood as I could without going back out."

"And why would you do that?"

"You were curious," Caleb honestly answers, "and so was I."

"I know, Caleb," Fjord says, frowning, "but please don't do that again. I don't want anyone else dying on my behalf."

It's been a while since Fjord has made such a pointed reference to Mollymauk. When Caleb places his hand on top of Fjord's, the sorrow he feels off of Fjord is so deeply set that it physically throws Caleb off balance, and he finds his bearings by placing his other hand on the railing and holding tight. "I will try to be more careful in the future," Caleb says, trying to keep his voice as calm as possible, "but I can make you no promises. Just know that everything I did in that lair yesterday was my choice, just as it was his."

"Thanks," Fjord mutters.

"You're welcome," Caleb replies, because while he feels as though he hasn't done Fjord any favors, he wants Fjord to know his intentions are honest. "Now, you wanted to discuss our 'strange thing'?"

"For lack of a better name, sure," Fjord says, almost smiling. "So... you touched my arm this morning and then I think you heard my thoughts." Fjord pauses. "You, um, weren't able to do that before, were you?"

"No, Fjord," Caleb says. "Mind reading is as new a phenomenon to me as it is to you. Although, I suppose I would be remiss to not ask the man who communicates with a shadowy god if he could read minds."

Fjord chuckles. "No, I can't say mind reading's something I've ever done before."

"Well, at least that evens the playing field," Caleb says.

"Though what I don't understand," Fjord says, turning his hand over in Caleb's and clasping them together, "is how we're touching right now and I can't hear what you're thinking. Like, you must be thinking something, right?"

"You think so highly of me."

Fjord scoffs. "You know what I mean. I think I've figured out- it's contact dependent, right? I couldn't hear what you were thinking before you touched me, but now I'm holding your hand, and I just feel-"

"My emotions?" Caleb asks. "When I touched your shoulder yesterday, _I_ felt surprised, and I couldn't fathom why."

"Yes!" Fjord exclaims. "I know what you're feeling, but the rationale isn't there, because I can't hear what you're thinking."

As Fjord speaks, Caleb is hit with a rush of new emotions. "You feel... puzzled?" At Fjord's nod, Caleb continues. "Not frustrated, but curious. Because... you want to figure this out?"

"Of course, don't you?"

"Certainly," Caleb says, "though shouldn't you sense that?"

"I don't know what you're thinking," Fjord gently reminds. "I know what you're feeling, and I can guess, but it's still just gonna be a guess, you know?"

Caleb nods. "Right. So, what am I feeling, then?"

"You don't know?" Fjord asks, raising an eyebrow.

"I can honestly say, Fjord, that I have no idea how to feel about this."

"Well let me tell you," Fjord says, before affecting a look of exaggerated concentration, deeply furrowing his brow. He sticks out his tongue ever so slightly, and with it comes a glimpse of one jagged tooth. It would be endearing if it were not so ridiculous. "You feel relieved, I think. Amused, and... there's something almost bitter there, under the surface."

Caleb has a brief, bewildering, moment where he entertains the idea that Fjord has never felt _guilt_ before, before he realizes that Fjord is simply too polite to say what Caleb is feeling out loud. "Fjord," Caleb says, sighing, "please remind me that after we're done here that there's something I owe you an apology for."

"An apology? For what?"

Caleb just shakes his head. "I really think we should figure this out first."

"All right," Fjord allows. "What did you have in mind?"

"I want you to think something, anything," Caleb says, shrugging. "Just make sure, whatever it is, you think it very clearly, and I'll let you know if I hear it."

"Clearly, got it," Fjord says, smirking. He's quiet for several seconds before asking, "did you get that?"

Caleb sighs. "No, what were you thinking about?"

"How much it's going to cost to replace the sails," Fjord says, and Caleb can sense he's being honest. The implications of which... well, Caleb will have a lot to consider, going forward.

"You're stressing out," Fjord says, gently. "Relax. It's your turn now, just clear that mind, think those thoughts."

 _You are an idiot,_ Caleb thinks, not unfondly.

Fjord laughs, delightedly. "You think so highly of me."

"Did you really hear that?" Caleb asks.

Fjord nods before standing up straight. "Maybe that's just it, Caleb," Fjord says, out loud. Then, in Fjord's voice, but distinctly within Caleb's mind, Caleb hears, _maybe we have to think like we're speaking to one another._

 _Maybe you are not an idiot, after all,_ Caleb thinks, grinning, and from the resulting grin on Fjord's face he knows he got the message. _So what? It's a glorified Message spell?_

_I know, not exactly the most exciting curse you've ever heard of, huh?_

Caleb frowns. _You think this is a curse, then?_

_Well, what else would you call it?_

And what would Caleb call it? He supposes that curse is as fair a term as any. Blood pacts are rarely thought of as blessings.

 _You're not thinking anything,_ Fjord prompts.

 _I've been known to do that, sometimes, the not-thinking thing._ Caleb shoots back. _Why, what are you thinking about?_

Fjord chuckles. _I think our crew is probably wondering why we've been silently holding hands in the dark for so long._

 _Oh, Scheiße,_ Caleb curses. He had forgotten about the crew. He pulls his hand out from Fjord's and looks over his shoulder to see at least three crew members pointedly avoiding his gaze, and Orly, who nods once in Caleb's direction. Caleb nods back reflexively.

"It's getting late, anyway," Fjord remarks. "We should be getting to sleep. Orly told me earlier that we should be coming up to the Bisaft Isle any day now, wind permitting."

"Right," Caleb says. "Nott will be wondering where I've gone off to. Er, good night."

"Uh, Caleb?" Fjord asks, as Caleb pushes away from the rail. "You told me to remind you- something about an apology?"

Caleb looks at Fjord, and he doesn't need to be touching Fjord to understand that the expression on Fjord's face is one of confusion and interest. And Caleb wants nothing more than to apologize, but he is so tired, and the apology demands more than he feels capable of giving at the moment. "You said it yourself," Caleb says instead. "It's getting late. Tomorrow, yeah?"

"Tomorrow," Fjord repeats. "Good night, Caleb."

"Good night, Fjord."

Caleb takes his leave and heads to his quarters, taking care while climbing into his bed so he does not wake the sleeping Nott in the cot beside him. As expected, his jacket and books remain untouched. He shoves the bundle towards one end of the bed, tossing the pillow already placed on his bed onto the ground. There's something about sleeping on a surely-by-now dead man's pillow that feels like it's just asking for bad luck. The books will provide a decent pillow, anyway, he knows as much from experience.

 

***

Caleb wakes up face down on the cold, wet floor, surrounded by darkness. His hands almost slip out from under him as tries to push himself up, the grit underneath him preventing any sort of purchase he may have had on the stone floor below. He winces as sand finds its way into the cut on his right palm, and he draws his right arm in close to his chest. Something in the back of his brain tells him that there is something that isn't quite right there, though the pounding headache in the rest of his brain kills that thought quickly.

Disoriented, Caleb wonders if he's woken up in Dashilla's lair. Wonders if the events of the last day had been a weird feverish dream he'd concocted while unconscious. It's not an entirely unpleasant thought. It had been nice, for a time, to not be worried about others reaching into his mind and playing with his thoughts. He'd started to like having thoughts of his own.

Then he hears it, the sound of something dripping echoing far off in the distance, and that kills that theory, doesn't it? No dripping underwater.

Having gotten nowhere earlier trying to push himself up by hand, Caleb rolls himself over onto his side. His muscles tense and ache from even this slightest effort, and he grits his teeth to prevent himself from groaning out loud. He has no idea what lurks in the shadows, after all. Once on his side, he maneuvers himself so that his knees are bent as far back as they're willing to go. He then braces himself, and in one go he swiftly rolls himself so that he is sat kneeling on the floor. He counts to drei, and then brings one leg forward, using the momentum to push himself up and off of the ground. It's not dissimilar to trying to get up while in prison restraints, and thankfully this time he also has the aid of his one good hand.

Standing brings with it the new complication of dizziness, and Caleb stumbles slowly through the dark with his good hand outstretched until he makes contact with a stone wall. Winded, he takes a moment to breathe, noticing for the first time the familiar taste of iron at the back of his throat that mixes with an unusual taste of brine. He feels dehydrated. He feels like he's been run over by a carriage.

Another drip, sounding like it's coming from up ahead. Then another, and another, and another. How long has he been standing here for? For lack of a better lead, Caleb starts to walk towards the source of the dripping sound. He walks, for what feels like a preposterous amount of time, until the roughness of the stone wall gives way to something smoother, as if it had been carved. He nearly trips, the darkness giving no warning that he has come up to stairs. He pauses to collect himself and then begins his ascent. As he winds his way up the curling staircase, he sees the faint yellow glow of lantern light, and hears a soft voice up ahead.

"I don't understand," a man's voice says, and Caleb stops in his tracks, not yet willing to reveal himself. There's something almost familiar about the tonality of the voice, but his brain stumbles trying to make sense of the origin.

 _Well, freund,_ Caleb thinks, wryly, _that makes two of us._

"What do you mean?" The man asks, sharply. Caleb's brain is screaming at him that he is _missing_ something, but the gears refuse to turn quick enough to provide him with any answers.

Bits of sand from the ceiling above sift down and settle on Caleb's shoulders. As Caleb looks up the ground below him begins to quake, and Caleb waits for the walls to cave in.

Instead, in a low bassy rumble that rattles up through his chest, some _thing_ says, **POTENTIAL.**

The sound has no discernible origin. It echoes through Caleb's body and sounds so unlike anything Caleb's ever heard that he wonders if he had imagined it.

Except then the man responds. "I know, but for what?" he snaps, frustrated.

 **REWARD,** the thing responds.

As the ground rattles around below him, Caleb takes a chance and advances farther up the stairs while his footsteps are more likely to be muffled. He stops when the floor stops shaking, and from his viewpoint he can just see the off-kilter shadowed image of a man, lit from the front by a harsh yellow light. He's kneeling on the ground, his palms pressed firmly against his knees. Without understanding why, Caleb's eye catches on the man's armor. Instinctively, his gaze lowers to the man's lower right back, where he knows the puncture mark from a long ago harpoon attack will be. And how having a perfect memory is a funny thing sometimes! How Caleb can recall without _understanding-_

"What reward?" The man asks, and it suddenly clicks into place. The clench of the jaw is all Fjord, the exasperation as well, even if the accent is not.

 **CONSUME,** echoes all around him, and Caleb climbs the remaining stairs until he stands at the step just before the landing, trying to hide in the cover of shadow.

Caleb takes in the new sight before him, and his heart drops as he sees a humongous yellow eye that appears to be floating in front of Fjord. Its pupil is impossibly black, a narrow slit not unlike that of a snake, and it is singularly focused on Fjord. It blinks once, slowly, and with it comes a heavy thudding sound. Jester's whispering voice comes to mind. _Uk'otoa._

Fjord's shoulders rise and fall, as if sighing deeply. "I found another crystal," Fjord says, "and I know there's one left, but I don't understand where I'm supposed to find it if Avantika had it when she-"

The eye squints at Fjord. **PACT.**

"Yes," Fjord huffs, before raising his right hand and summoning his falchion. The eyes on the hilt of the blade cast around wildly before meeting the eye of Uk'otoa. "I understand we have a pact, but I need to know what you _want_ from me," Fjord says, desperately, clenching his fist around the hilt. Blood drips from his hand as he does so, droplets falling to the stone below and echoing as they scatter.

Ah, so that was the sound from before. Caleb extends out his own right hand from where it was clutched against his chest, unfurling his fingers to find that his own palm is bleeding freely. Trails of blood streak over his fingers, and with the slight motion of his hand a single droplet wells over and falls from his palm to the ground.

The eye widens and shifts over towards Caleb before narrowing again. ****BURN.****

"Burn?" Fjord asks, dismissing the falchion. He hasn't turned around to acknowledge Caleb, then again, it's possible he hadn't heard. "I don't know what you mean."

Caleb steps forward out of the shadow, knowing he's been made. "I don't think that was directed at you, freund," he says, softly.

Fjord glances over his shoulder. "Caleb?" he asks, horror apparent in his voice.

Caleb waves, the blood still dripping down his arm. "Ja."

"What are you doing here?" Fjord asks, and Caleb does not miss how his voice shifts back into the accent Caleb is familiar with.

 _And whose benefit are you doing that, for?_ Caleb thinks, annoyed, even though he knows Fjord cannot answer him.

Uk'otoa laughs, a rumbling, horrible, thing. ****EXTINGUISH.** **

Caleb feels his eyes roll back in his head, and the world around him grows dark again. He vaguely registers that he's falling.

"What are you doing to him?" Fjord asks, panicked, his accent turning over into the strange one once again.

 _Well, that answers that,_ Caleb thinks, and braces for impact.

 

***

Caleb wakes with salt water bubbling past his lips. Startled, he breathes in, and begins to choke.

"Caleb?" Nott asks from the bed beside him, turning on her lantern light. "Are you alright?"

He tries to tell her that he'll be fine, but it comes out as a series of coughs instead.

"Caleb!" Nott exclaims, and jumps from her bed to his, a not unremarkable distance. She digs her fingers into his shirtfront and yanks forward, pulling Caleb into a seated position.

The motion aids Caleb in sputtering out the remainder of the water. "Thank you, Nott," Caleb rasps, clutching at his throat.

"What happened?" Nott asks, her eyes wide.

"It's probably just a side effect from Caduceus bringing us to the surface so quickly," Caleb says, waving dismissively. "It'll pass."

Nott's eyes squint into a withering glare, and Caleb winces. "Uh huh," Nott says, untangling her hands from his shirt. "And you wouldn't happen to know if Fjord was experiencing any side effects of his own right about now, would you?"

Caleb shrugs innocently. "And how would I know that?"

"Right," Nott says, climbing down from the bed. "You're sure you're feeling alright?"

"I'm fine, Nott, really," Caleb assures. "I promise."

"Good," she says, slipping on her shoes. "Then I'm going to check on Fjord."

"Or I could go," Caleb says, starting to get up from the bed. Nott levels him with a stare that is equal parts concern and warning. "You know," Caleb says, sitting back down on the bed, "my mother used to look at me like that when she caught me setting fire to the flowers in the garden. Always got me to stop." And Caleb feels the familiar ache that burns its way throughout his body whenever he talks about his parents, but underneath there is a sense of immense relief that comes from being able to share a not unhappy memory of them with someone else.

Nott freezes. "Your mother seems like a smart lady," she says, gently.

"Ja, she was."

"You must take after your father, then."

"I was only thinking, Nott," Caleb says, sighing, "that you might not want to see Fjord right now because you're mad at him. Unless, you no longer are?"

"Oh Caleb," Nott says, her expression softening. "Of course I'm still mad at him. But Fjord is family, and that means I'd rather choke him to death myself than let some _salt water_ do it for me."

Caleb smiles. "I don't believe that for one second."

"Caleb, we've discussed this, the Mighty Nein is our family now."

"That's not what I meant, freund," Caleb says, "and you know it."

Nott shrugs, a faint smile on her lips. "Get some rest Caleb. Good night."

"Good night," Caleb echoes. When the door closes behind Nott, Caleb rolls over and grabs the pillow off the floor, placing it gently under his head. Why not? It seems as though his bad luck is here to stay, and he might as well get comfortable.

 

***

Caleb is greeted by Orly first thing in the morning when he finds his way above deck. "Weather permitting," Orly intones, "we should be coming up to the Bisaft Isle by this afternoon."

"Thank you for letting me know, Orly," Caleb says, sincerely. He genuinely likes Orly, mostly for the way that he seems to care a lot for the Mighty Nein in the ways that matter, but also not care about them at all for the things that don't. He minds his own.

"No problem," Orly says. "But if you see that Captain of yours, could you pass the message along? I'd much appreciate that."

"Certainly," Caleb says.

Orly nods, and then walks away. Another thing to like about Orly- when the conversation is finished, so is he.

Fjord is nowhere to be seen on deck, and nor is he seen in the dining area at breakfast. Perhaps Nott really did choke him to death.

"Maybe he's still sleeping?" Jester asks. "Have you tried his room?"

And Caleb hadn't, because while the rest of the ship feels like neutral territory, the Captain's quarters seem distinctly Fjord's and Fjord's alone. Still, Fjord can't avoid him forever, and so Caleb makes his way back below deck and knocks on Fjord's door.

"Come in," Fjord calls. "Mind the hole in the floor."

Caleb opens the door and shuts it behind him. "Pardon me?"

Fjord doesn't respond. Caleb makes his way cautiously across the room and peers into the sleeping quarters, only to find them empty.

"I'm out here, Caleb," Fjord says, softly, and Caleb follows his voice out onto the balcony. He finds Fjord standing hunched over the railing, head bowed, bracing himself up on his elbows.

Caleb moves to stand on Fjord's left, mimicking his position. "We missed you at breakfast."

"Wasn't hungry."

"Alright," Caleb says, softly. "Orly wanted me to let you know that we should be coming up to the Bisaft, soon."

Fjord nods without looking up from the water. "Right."

"Are you feeling okay, Fjord?" Caleb asks.

"I'm fine," Fjord says, "I guess I just don't feel like talking much." He adjusts his left arm slightly, letting his elbow brush against Caleb's.

"Good," Caleb says, voice steady, "me neither."

 _Caleb, what exactly did you see last night?_ Fjord asks, his tone bitter and tired.

 _Well,_ Caleb responds, _the giant yellow eye was kind of hard to miss._

Fjord snorts out a laugh. _And here I was worried you were gonna take this seriously._

 _Of course I'm taking this seriously,_ Caleb says, knocking his shoulder into Fjord's. _But not because I particularly care about the details from last night. I mean, sure, I'm not exactly pleased I basically got told to fuck off by a giant eyeball, but I've had worse. I'm just worried for you, Fjord. I'm worried that thing is going to run you into the ground._

Fjord casts a sidelong glance in Caleb's direction. _That's... not how I thought you were gonna react._

_And how did you think I was going to react?_

_I thought you'd have a lot more questions, for starters,_ Fjord says. There's an underlying current of fear in his voice, and something in Caleb's chest aches.

 _What are you so scared of, Fjord?_ Caleb asks, his voice soft.

 _I thought,_ Fjord begins, his voice wavering some, _that after everything you saw last night, you'd want to get fuck far away from me._

 _Fjord,_ Caleb begins, momentarily at a loss for words. _I have made some terrible decisions in my life,_ he continues, somberly, _some of which are likely older than Jester. And maybe, someday, I will be brave enough to tell you even a fraction of them. But for me to walk away now, over something that wasn't even your choice, Fjord? It would make me at best a hypocrite, and at worst a shitty friend. Do you understand?_

 _Yeah, alright,_ Fjord says, and the fear dissipates off of Caleb like steam. Instead, Caleb is horrified to discover the sadness that had been lurking under the surface.

 _You do understand that this wasn't your choice though, right, Fjord?_ Caleb presses. _You've said it yourself, by all accounts you should have died in that shipwreck. But then something saw something worthy in you and saved you. Lesser men have cracked under that kind of pressure. I think you're doing just fine, considering the circumstances._

_Thanks, Caleb._

Caleb glances over at Fjord, stares at his face in profile. _I only hope that one day you realize you are a man worth following._

Warmth spreads down Caleb's arm, and Caleb breathes out a sigh of relief. _You really don't have any questions, though?_ Fjord asks, after a moment.

 _Bizarrely, I think last night answered more questions than it asked,_ Caleb says. _Except, of course, for the mystery of why your accent changes when you think no one is listening._

"Hey guys? Caduceus says 'Land ho!'" Jester's voice calls from above. Caleb turns around to spot Jester waving frantically out to sea, Caduceus doing the same at a slower pace beside her.

"Land ho?" Caduceus asks.

Jester rolls her eyes. "Okay, so Caduceus didn't exactly say land ho." To Caduceus she says, "it's what sailors say, when they see land. Haven't you heard it before?"

"No," Caduceus says, wondrously. "I grew up in the middle of a forest, I guess land was always ho. Well, that's neat."

"Fjord," Jester calls, "Orly says you should get up here soon, because they'll want to speak to Captain Tusktooth at the docks."

"Coming, Jester," Fjord calls back. He turns to Caleb and gestures towards the door. "After you," he says.

"Oh, he's a gentleman," Caleb says, wryly, but does step through the doorway with Fjord following behind him.

Once they are within the Captain's quarters, Fjord clears his throat. "Uh, Caleb?"

"Yes, Fjord?"

"My accent," Fjord begins, tugging his fingers nervously through his hair. "The one you know... it's not exactly mine. My real accent is the one you heard, uh, earlier. This one is Vandren's. I borrowed it after the shipwreck, I think because I was hoping that someone would hear it and point me in his direction. But I think now that enough time has passed that I've realized it's my way of mourning him. Making sure he's not forgotten, you know?"

Caleb had already had his father's accent, when he had been left to mourn. "I know," he says.

"I swear I'm telling the truth," Fjord says, holding out his hand to Caleb. "You can see, if you want."

Caleb looks down at Fjord's outstretched hand and then back up at Fjord's face. "It's okay," Caleb says, gently, "I trust you," and Fjord smiles.

 

***

Later, after the ship has docked, and Nott has scampered off with Jester in tow to find some "room and board on solid fucking land", Fjord grabs Caleb by the arm. "What?" Caleb hisses, yanking himself free.

"I think we should ask Orly if he knows of anyone on the island that could lift our curse," Fjord hisses back.

Caleb inhales and then exhales. "And how exactly," Caleb asks, "do you plan to do that without letting on that we have been cursed?"

"Watch me," Fjord grins. "Hey Orly?"

"Yes Fjord?" Orly asks, pausing in his already slow unloading of the ship.

"Do you know of any medicine men on the island?" Fjord asks, before frowning. "Or medicine women? Uh, medicine people? I'm not picky."

This is the man that Caleb has chosen to ally himself with.

Orly's good eye squints over at Fjord. "Why don't you just ask your friend Jester to fix you up?"

"This is more of a... sensitive issue," Fjord says, lowly. "I'm sure you understand."

Orly's eye slowly drags its way down Fjord's body before resting upon his groin area. "Uh huh," he says, his gaze turning back to Fjord's face.

Fjord's cheeks turn an even darker shade of green, and Caleb's eyes roll skyward to keep himself from laughing. "Not like that," Fjord hisses.

"Right," Orly says. "There's a woman on the island, little thing. Name's Eugenie. She lives in a hut down at the end of the beach. Real colorful. Can't miss it."

"Thanks Orly," Caleb says, trying and failing to keep his voice level.

"Don't worry," Orly says, "she'll fix you boys up real good."

This time it's Caleb's turn to blush, and Fjord doesn't even have the decency to pretend he's not laughing.

 

***

As sure as Orly had described, the hut is impossible to miss. Small and ramshackle in construction, each of its boards is painted a different color, though large sections of paint have long since chipped away. Fjord knocks on the door. "Eugenie?"

"Who sent you?" A gruff woman's voice answers.

"Orly?" Fjord responds.

There's a pause. "Orly who?"

"Orly... the tortle?"

Caleb clears his throat. "We were wondering if you could break a curse for us."

The door swings open, revealing an elderly halfling with deep wrinkles set into her copper skin. "A curse you say?" she asks, one bushy white eyebrow curling upward. "Well, come on in."

Fjord looks over at Caleb, who shrugs. Fjord sizes up the door in front of him and squats to walk through. Caleb, perhaps less melodramatically, simply ducks his head and clears the doorway with ample room. "Yes," Fjord says. "You come highly recommended."

"It's been so long since I've heard flattery in my home," Eugenie says, smiling warmly. "Please, sit, make yourself at home,"

"Why thank you," Fjord says, as he and Caleb sit themselves upon thankfully human-sized chairs. "As we were saying-"

"Tea?" Eugenie asks, brandishing a kettle.

Fjord visibly balks. "Uh, sure," he says, accepting the cup already being thrust in his hand. He politely takes a sip before wincing. "Um, tell me, what is this blend?"

"Mostly seaweed," Eugenie replies, cheerfully.

"Oh," Caleb says, accepting his own cup, "Caduceus would love you."

"And I'm sure I would love him."

Fjord sets his cup down to rest on his knee. "Thank you for the lovely cup of tea, but-"

Eugenie laughs. "Oh please, the tea is awful. And now that we know that you're a liar, let's hear what the other one of you has to say."

"Caleb," Caleb supplies, as Fjord sputters indignantly.

"Yes, let's hear what Caleb has to say," Eugenie says, hoisting herself up onto her own human-sized chair.

"Fjord's not wrong in saying that you come highly recommended," Caleb says. "Though, really, you were our only recommendation."

Eugenie nods. "I am the only cleric for miles, boys."

Caleb's heart sinks in his chest. If they had wanted a cleric they could have gone to Jester or Caduceus. "Right, and hopefully knowledgeable about curses?"

"Well, lay it on me," Eugenie says, "and I'll let you know."

Fjord's heel swings forward and gently kicks Caleb in the shin. _Just how much are we letting her know, here?_

 _Enough for her to get the picture._ "We were underwater, searching for a friend's ship that had wrecked months ago," he begins. "We were hoping to, ah, recover his body and bring it home. Instead we found ourselves being chased away by a group of merrow, and along with the rest of our party, we sought refuge in a nearby cave. While we were resting, we noticed that there was a pedestal in the middle of the cave. I spent some time studying it, and I noticed that the pedestal was covered in old blood. I brought this information to Fjord, and he asked me-"

"I asked him if he wasn't the least bit curious about what the pedestal could do," Fjord fills in, brow furrowed.

"Right," Caleb continues, "and I was curious, so I cut my palm open trying to see if the pedestal would react. And Fjord followed suit."

"Did the pedestal react?" Eugenie asks.

Caleb nods. "It did. But whatever it was, we stopped before the ritual could be completed."

"We shook on it," Fjord says, his fingers tapping against the rim of his teacup.

"You shook on it?"

"Yes," Caleb says, "and since then, whenever we make contact, we-"

"-can hear each other's thoughts," Fjord finishes.

"And is it with any type of contact?" Eugenie asks, waggling her eyebrows.

Caleb clears his throat. "As far as we know," he allows, "though our frame of reference is mostly limited to holding each other's hand and brushing shoulders."

"Hand holding and shoulder touching?" Eugenie asks, whistling lowly. "Is it just me, or are the kids getting tamer?"

"We shook on it," Fjord repeats, jaw clenching, and Caleb watches Fjord stumble towards a conclusion he himself has already embraced.

Eugenie sighs. "I know, hon, but I think that falls under the category of hand holding."

"No," Fjord says, shaking his head. "Down in the lair, we shook on it. I asked Caleb to do something, he did it, and then we shook on it. That's not a curse; that's a contract."

"Of a sort," Eugenie says, gently. "Though usually blood pacts are a little harder to weasel your way out of."

Caleb thinks again of his Oma, who had spent so much time in his childhood warning him against making pacts with the devil. He looks over at Fjord, with his pointed ears, his tusks, and his green skin, and can practically see his Oma sneer at him in disgust. Fjord turns to him, a clearly scared expression on his face, and Caleb's heart sinks. In that moment, all he can think is that maybe his Oma earned a tea time or two with Mephistopheles all on her own.

"So how do we get out of it?" Caleb asks.

"Depends," Eugenie says.

"On what?"

"Whatever you named as your price," Eugenie says. "He said, 'why don't you put your hand on that pedestal?' And you said, 'sure, but only for...'"

Caleb stares her down. "A favor," he says, finally.

"Alright," Eugenie says. "And Fjord, you said..."

Fjord closes his eyes, inhaling and exhaling sharply before opening them again. "Always," he says, "right?"

"Right," Caleb confirms.

"Could be worse, Fjord," Eugenie says. "At least you made a pact with a devil you know, instead of a devil you don't."

Caleb thinks, possibly, that it could just be that level of worse.

"And Caleb, I think he owes you a favor," Eugenie says, grinning. "A big one."

 

***


	2. Let Me Show You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"Alright," Caleb says, before the smile slips off his face. "Fjord, I came here because I wanted to apologize to you. I realize I haven't actually done that, yet."_   
>  _"Oh, right," Fjord says, swallowing. He looks caught off guard, for a second. "I was supposed to remind you about that, wasn't I?"_   
>  _"That's okay," Caleb says. "I have a pretty good memory."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Featuring: too many misunderstandings to be had among seven people, enough sincere apologies to counteract the insincere ones, and the continued use of food as a narrative device.

### Part II.

_I know it's strange another way to get to know you.  
You'll never know unless we go so let me show you._

***

Eugenie sends them off with well wishes and a small sachet of tea. "For your friend Caduceus," she says, smiling as she tucks the sachet into Caleb's coat pocket. "The one with the excellent taste."

Caleb says thanks for the both of them, Fjord standing quietly at his side. He's halfway through saying goodbye to Eugenie when Fjord heads for the door, and Caleb trails off as he does, watching Fjord walk away over his shoulder.

"I think you better go get your boy," Eugenie says, patting Caleb's hand. "You've got a lot to discuss, now."

"Thanks again," Caleb says, and follows Fjord out the door. 

In the time that Caleb took to say goodbye to Eugenie, Fjord didn't travel far, and Caleb finds him at the shoreline. "You knew it was a blood pact, didn't you? Even before we talked to Eugenie... you knew?" Fjord asks, his back turned, as Caleb approaches at his side.

Fjord's staring out at the water, and Caleb can only make out his face in profile, but the tension in his posture is hard to miss. His arms are held firmly at his sides and when Caleb stands beside him Fjord moves to create two feet of distance between them. He's avoiding any sort of contact, and Caleb will give him the distance for as long as he wants it. "Yes," Caleb says, quietly. "I knew what it was. My mistake was in thinking that you knew as well."

Fjord sighs. "Alright."

"Alright?" Caleb repeats.

"Yeah, just, alright," Fjord says, curtly. "Shit, Caleb, I... You knew I would owe you a favor, right? Is that why you put your hand on the pedestal? Is that why you shook my hand after? Just so I would owe you a fucking favor?"

"Fjord," Caleb says, "you can't believe-"

"Yeah," Fjord says, clicking his tongue, "actually, I think I can." He shakes his head, shoulders hunched. "I'll see you back at the ship," he says, and starts to walk away again. 

"Fjord, stop," Caleb says, exhaling sharply. Fjord hesitates for a second before continuing forward. Frustrated, Caleb reaches out and grabs Fjord by the arm and prevents him from moving further. With contact comes the inevitable rush of emotions, and Caleb expects anger, expects the heat of it to almost burn his palm with it. Instead, Caleb feels sadness and disappointment rolling over him in waves, and that hurts Caleb far more than the anger ever could. There's a dangerous layer of _resignation_ to that disappointment, and Caleb wonders just how long Fjord has been waiting for Caleb to betray him. "Would you please just stop and listen to me?" Caleb asks.

Fjord turns to face Caleb, his mouth set in a hard line and his eyes downcast. There's a faint tinge of redness to the whites of his eyes, and Caleb hopes it is borne out of frustration and not sadness. "I don't want to hear it right now, Caleb."

"Well too bad," Caleb says, forcefully, "because I need you to listen to me. There's been a misunderstanding, here, and I worry that the longer it goes on the harder it will be to fix. I know that what Eugenie said may have been upsetting-" 

Fjord snorts, cutting Caleb off. Caleb waits a moment for Fjord to say something, but Fjord just nods, as if telling Caleb to continue.

And so Caleb does. "And... and I know it's not what you wanted. But please know that it's not what I wanted either, freund. When I asked you for that favor, it was asked as a request, not a demand. My intention was always that you would have the choice to say yes or no, down the line, and I never wanted that choice to be taken away from you. I didn't go into this with a plan, or some nefarious scheme, just to make you _owe me one._ And I didn't expect any of this to result in a blood pact, of all things." Caleb pauses before saying softly, "I asked you for that favor for the same reason I put my hand on that pedestal. We are a group, Fjord, you and I and the rest of the Nein, and that means I am going to help you see your quest through, even though I have no idea where it's going. I had just hoped that one day you would do the same for me."

"So you knew it was a blood pact, but you didn't expect it to end up like this?"

"You reached out and shook my hand," Caleb reminds him. "And I don't mean that to convey fault," Caleb adds, when Fjord huffs, "because I don't believe you knew what you were doing, and that's a key component, I think, of fault. I thought it was strange, that you would shake my hand then, but my own understanding of blood pacts is limited. I had no idea it would result in any of this."

"You still walked away with a favor, though."

Caleb sighs. "Yes."

Fjord shrugs. "So it looks like you got what you wanted, anyway, huh? Funny how that works out."

Caleb feels himself start to grow angry. He's knows it's misplaced, knows he's not really angry at Fjord but at the situation, but he wishes Fjord would just listen. He squeezes Fjord's arm, digging his nails in harder than is perhaps necessary, and thinks, _look, you told me a long time ago to decide if I was part of this team or if I was working for myself._

_And?_

_And I made my decision then. For as long as you'll have me, I'm on your team._

Hope floods through Fjord, and Caleb feels it as it travels through his fingertips. _Our team._

 _Our team,_ Caleb confirms, inhaling in relief. _So, you believe me then? That I didn't mean for this to happen?_

 _Caleb,_ Fjord says, raising an eyebrow. _You know I can tell when you're being honest, right?_

Caleb winces. _Yes, there's that, I guess._

 _But even if I couldn't,_ Fjord continues, _I'd- I think I'd believe you anyway._

 _Thank you,_ Caleb says, softly.

Fjord sighs. _It's just- look, I know you have an exit strategy. Don't look at me like that, of course you do. I thought you were using this as another way out. That someday you'd tell me you were leaving, and that would be it, because I'd owe it to you._

 _Fjord,_ Caleb starts, _I cannot guarantee that someday I won't have to leave. I said in that lair that I have things to do that aren't here, and I really will need help, but some of it, I think, I will have to do alone. I don't know what that means for me in a year's time, or a month's, or even a week's, but I'm not planning on going anytime soon. I couldn't do that to Nott._

 _And if it weren't for Nott?_ Fjord asks. 

Caleb pauses. _This may be shocking, but I've actually grown fond of some of you._

Fjord laughs, and Caleb finds himself wanting to join in. _Only some?_

 _Some people are easy to get along with,_ Caleb says, shrugging, _and some people are Beau._

_C'mon, you like her._

_Doesn't make her less of an asshole,_ Caleb says. _But, even so, I meant it when I said we're a team for as long as you and the Nein will have me._

_Why do you say that like we're not going to want you here?_

Caleb inhales deeply. _Before we met, Fjord, I lived a whole life where I did some things that are... inexcusable. Horrible, awful, things that I have to atone for, Fjord, and I cannot drag you into that. You don't deserve that, and there may come a day when you tell me to leave because of them._

 _You didn't walk away when you saw my dream,_ Fjord says. _Why do you think I would treat you any differently?_

 _Because they're not equal, Fjord,_ Caleb stresses. _I had more of a choice than you ever did, and to compare them isn't fair to you. Someday I'll tell you everything, but I can't, yet, and I know that's not fair either. And when I do, you can decide if you still want me around, and if you don't, I'll go._

 _And when you're ready to tell me, I'll be there,_ Fjord says. _But don't count on getting rid of us so easily. Some of us have grown pretty fond of you, too._

Caleb raises an eyebrow. _I never said I was fond of_ you, _Fjord._

Fjord smiles. "You don't have to," he says, putting his hand on Caleb's shoulder and squeezing. _I can tell._ Fjord pats his hand on Caleb's shoulder once and lets go. Caleb releases his hand from Fjord's arm, surprised, and Fjord heads off down the beach back towards the docks.

And it's a funny thing. Caleb has always hated Common, has always found the language to be clumsy and stilted in comparison to Zemnian, but there's always one word that Caleb keeps finding himself coming back to. "Fuck," he mutters to himself, and goes to follow Fjord down the beach.

***

"Well, it could be worse," Jester says, wincing over her lunch. "It could cost, like, 226 gold and take four days to fix the ship."

"You just added one gold and one day," Beau says. 

"Which would be worse," Jester points out. "Beau, come on."

Beau sighs, pushing her spoon around in her bowl of fruit. "Yeah, you're right. Hey, anybody want the rest of this?"

"Not really?" Jester intones. "But thank you, I guess?"

"I'll take it!" Nott exclaims, and Yasha pulls back her own outstretched hand that had been reaching for the bowl. Caleb catches Nott's eye and nods over to Yasha, and Nott rolls her eyes. "I mean, I guess Yasha and I could share it."

"Have at it," Beau says, pushing the bowl towards Nott. "But for real, what are we going to do here for three days?"

Jester hums. "Well, Bentha has, like, a _bunch_ of bees and she already told me I could go see them, so... I mean, I guess you could come if you wanted to, too."

"Bentha?"

Jester rolls her eyes. "Beau, she literally just sold us the rooms. We just talked to her. We're eating in her restaurant, remember?"

Beau nods. "Oh right, that Bentha. Gotcha."

"I'm sorry," Fjord interjects. "Rooms? We have rooms here?"

"Yeah, while you and Caleb were gone dealing with your 'medical emergency', as Orly put it," Beau says, smirking, "the rest of us went exploring. Turns out there's like only one inn on this whole island, and we got the last three rooms available."

"But what do we need rooms for?" Fjord asks. 

"Where did you think we were gonna stay for the next three days?"

Fjord shrugs. "The ship?"

"If you think I am spending one more fucking day on that boat when I don't have to," Nott snarls, "you are out of your fucking mind, Fjord."

"So we got rooms," Jester says, her smile forced. 

Caduceus nods, smiling. "And they're nice."

"Well, they're a bit plain," Jester says. "You know, two beds each, four walls, a window. The usual."

"So they've got a view," Caduceus says. "I mean, it's of the ocean, but still it's... nice."

"And they're on solid ground," Nott says. "So I can finally sleep without feeling like I'm in the fucking womb again."

Beau wrinkles her nose. "We're getting sidetracked. C'mon people, what're the plans for today?"

"I'm going to meet the bees!" Jester grins. "And Yasha's coming with me, and we're going to look for some flowers, and Caduceus might come and get some honey for his tea, and-"

"Okay," Beau says, cutting her off. "And you, Nott?"

Nott glances over at Caleb. "Actually, meeting the bees doesn't sound too bad," she says, when Caleb only shrugs in response. "It sounds... inland."

"Right," Beau says. "Caleb?"

Caleb clears his throat. "I have some shopping to do," he says.

"And Fjord?"

"I mean," Fjord says, "I could do some shopping too, I guess."

"Surprise, surprise," Beau mutters. 

"Sorry, what was that?" Fjord asks, squinting. "I didn't quite catch that."

Beau smirks. "Nothing. So what are we shopping for, boys?"

"Paper," Caleb says. "Maybe some ink, if I can find it." 

"Yeah, me too," Fjord says, and Caleb refrains from rolling his eyes by choosing to kick Fjord under the table instead.

"Hey!" Beau exclaims. "What'd you fucking kick me for?"

Caleb sighs and buries his face in his hands. "Sorry, reflex."

"I was just pointing out that you guys are spending a lot of time together," Beau says, rubbing her shin. "That's all."

"Just once," Caleb groans, kneading his face with his hands, "I would like to have a nice quiet meal, where we sit in silence, and just eat. Is that too much to ask?"

A small hand pats him on the arm. "Probably," Jester says. 

"Alright, Beau," Caduceus asks, "what are your plans?"

"As fun as shopping sounds," Beau says, "I think I'd rather go with the rest of you to see some bees. I wouldn't want to intrude."

"How are you not intruding now?" Nott asks.

"Jester literally just invited me to go with you guys, like, not even a minute ago," Beau says. "But thanks, Nott."

Caduceus smiles, clapping his hands together. "Great! The more the merrier. But Jester, we really should be going soon. It's well past noon already."

"Right," Jester says, solemnly. "We should get to the bees before they all have to go back to the hive for dinner."

"Jester, I don't think bees have meal times like we do," Beau says, laughter in her voice.

"Oh," Jester frowns, her shoulders slumping. "You're probably right Beau. That was silly of me."

"But, I mean, what the fuck do I know about bees?" Beau adjusts. "Don't, uh- don't listen to me, I have no idea what I'm talking about. Hey, we really should be going, right? Everybody's done with their meals, right?"

Yasha and Nott look up from where they're splitting the rest of Beau's meal. "Um, I guess we could be?" Yasha says, putting a piece of mango in her pocket. 

"Great," Beau says, continuing to ramble. "So does anyone know how we pay for this? Like, do we leave money on the table? Do we put it on our tab? I feel like you have to _establish_ that you're setting up a tab, you know?"

Yasha frowns. "I... I really don't."

"It's okay, I'll just ask," Beau says, and starts waving. "Hey, uh, waiter?"

"Ah," Nott says, "you're one of _those_ people."

After a moment or so of Beau waving at a speed just shy of frantic, a harried-looking boy of likely no older than twelve approaches the table carrying a stack of plates. "Um, can I help you, miss?"

"Say, if we wanted to pay for our meal," Beau begins, "how would we do that and also how much would it cost?"

Fjord chuckles lowly, a strained smile on his face. "Not _if_ ," he says, nudging Beau's shoulder with his own. "Of course we want to pay for our meal."

The boy looks between Fjord and Beau, clearly decides he wants nothing to do with them, and turns to Caduceus instead. "You can just pay at the table. For seven... people?" he asks, his voice lilting as he catches a glimpse of Nott. 

Nott's expression curls into a grin that bares her teeth. "If I'm paying, I'm people."

"It's two gold pieces per person," the boy says, "uh, miss?" By the cadence of his voice, he's guessing. Nott grins wider, if possible, and winks at him. The boy nearly drops his plates.

"A perfectly reasonable price," Caduceus says, smiling. "Thank you."

The boy nods at Caduceus and then runs off to the other end of the restaurant. "Well," Caleb says, with a sniff, "he seemed like an asshole."

"Maybe, since he was such an asshole, we can just leave without paying," Jester says conspiratorially, waggling her eyebrows at Nott. Nott's grin starts to look more and more genuine with each ridiculous eyebrow movement. 

"That would be easier," Fjord says, after a moment, "if you hadn't just rented rooms from the woman who owns the restaurant."

Jester stops waggling her eyebrows. "You're right, we did do that, yes."

"So we should?"

"Probably pay, I guess," Jester says, rolling her eyes. 

"Right," Fjord says, reaching for his bag. 

Caleb has just pulled two gold pieces out of his pocket when something brushes against his arm for a moment. When he looks up for the source, Fjord smiles at him from across the table. "Don't worry," he says, placing four gold coins down on the table. "I've got it."

Caleb blinks back at him. "Thank you?"

"No problem," Fjord says, grinning. 

"Hey, uh, Fjord," Beau says, her own two gold coins held in her hand, "are you planning on paying for all of us, or just Caleb?"

Fjord's grin slips for a second before freezing back into place. "Of course I was planning on paying for everyone," he says, reaching again for his bag. 

"Oh, that's much too kind," Caduceus says, a slight quirk to his lips. "Thank you, Fjord."

"Oh, it's really no problem," Fjord says, through gritted teeth, and places down on the table the additional ten gold coins. 

Beau smiles dangerously. "Yeah, Fjord," she says, clapping him on the back. "That _was_ really sweet of you. Don't you think so, Caleb?"

Caleb looks at Beau, looks at the pile of coins laying on the table, and thinks that he would gladly pay the fourteen gold himself if it meant they would finally have a normal fucking meal. "Yes," he says, staring Beau down, "very sweet."

Beau grins back at him, and then swiftly and quietly kicks him under the table. Caleb stops himself from wincing to avoid giving her the satisfaction. "Well, now that our meal's paid for, we really should be going," Beau says, hopping up from the table. "Enjoy your time shopping, boys!"

Nott, Yasha, Caduceus, and Jester exchange glances before getting up to follow Beau out of the restaurant. "Have fun," Jester says, lightly laying a hand on Caleb's shoulder and walking away.

"You can always reach me by message, if you need to," Nott says, and follows Jester out the door. 

Fjord sits back in his chair, shaking his head. "What just happened?"

"Fjord," Caleb mutters, "I have no idea."

***

"You really didn't have to come, you know," Caleb says, smiling as Fjord tries to hide another poorly-stifled yawn. "I know this must be incredibly boring for you."

"I mean, it's not _that_ boring," Fjord says, fingers tapping on an opened box of cards laid face down on one of the displays. "There's certainly a lot of interesting things in here."

And Caleb agrees. The Enchanted Escritoire, while certainly not as grand as Pumat Sol's shop, contains enough strange items that Caleb confidently believes that he could spend the whole day inside. The only thing about the shop that unsettles him is how empty of people it is, though he supposes not every shop can be run by four Pumat Sols. "Still," Caleb mumbles, "I'd hate to waste your time off."

"It's not a waste," Fjord says, thumbing through the stack of paper Caleb had managed to collect. "Besides," he says, smiling, "the company's not so bad."

Caleb, despite himself, is warmed by the sentiment. "I guess I could say the same."

"And I mean," Fjord continues, "if I hadn't come, you might have never found this place, right?"

Caleb doesn't have the heart to tell him that he had spotted the shop the second they'd walked into the marketplace. It had just been much more amusing to watch Fjord try to describe 'fancy _enough_ ' paper to the locals. "Right," Caleb says, smiling to himself. 

The scent of something burning sweet fills the air, and Caleb looks up towards the counter to see the shopkeeper light a few more sticks of incense and gently waft them through the air. The smell is familiar, if a bit intense, and suddenly it feels like the room is filled with it. It smells like wood burning after a rainstorm, smells like hay catching fire, and Caleb's arms start to itch uncomfortably under his bandages. "Hey," Fjord asks, nudging Caleb. "Do you need any more of that?"

"What?" Caleb asks, thrown for a moment. 

"Well, Frumpkin's still an octopus, right?" Fjord asks. "And I know you've said before that he prefers to be a cat, so I just wondered if maybe you'd run out." The moment catches for a second, and there's a spark of memory, a flash of something, and- _Fjord is placing five sticks of incense in his hand, a large grin on his face. "Changed your day, didn't it?" he asks, his fingers brushing against Caleb's as he pulls his hand away. "Everything's coming up flowers, now."_

"Yes," Caleb says, finally. "I could use some more."

"Let's get some, then," Fjord says, and heads for the counter with Caleb's paper in his hands. 

The woman behind the counter looks just barely out of her teenage years, and she sighs as she wipes down the counter. "Welcome to the Escritoire," she drawls, without looking up. 

"Hello," Fjord says, placing the paper down on the counter. "We'd like to purchase this."

The woman looks up from the counter, finally, and acknowledges Fjord. Caleb watches as her eyes widen and her face visibly turns a bright, bright red. "Um, hello," she squeaks. Caleb's eyebrow raises.

The corner of Fjord's mouth twitches up once, almost imperceptibly, before widening into a full-blown grin. "Hello," Fjord echoes, voice lilting. "My friend and I were looking to purchase this paper, miss... Sorry," he says, resting a hand against the counter, "I'm afraid I didn't catch your name."

"It's Magda," the woman says, entranced, and Caleb tries very hard not to roll his eyes.

"Magda," Fjord repeats, "I like that, it suits you. I'm Fjord," he says, holding out his hand for Magda to shake- which she does, eagerly- "and this is my friend Caleb."

"Charmed," Caleb says. He doesn't offer Magda his own hand. It seems rude when she seems to be enjoying holding Fjord's as much as she is.

"Well, Magda," Fjord says, pulling his hand back and resting it on the stack of paper. "We were wondering how much this might cost."

Magda looks down for a second, as if appraising the stack of what Caleb knows to be 50 gold's worth of paper. "That will be 40 gold," she says, glancing back up at Fjord.

Caleb huffs out an incredulous laugh, and Fjord smiles. "Oh, and I almost forgot," Fjord says, picking five sticks of incense out of the jar on the counter. "We'll take this as well. How much will that be?"

"For you?" Magda breathes. "Free."

At this point Caleb is physically unable to restrain himself from rolling his eyes, though he doubts Magda will notice. "Thank you," Caleb says, flatly. "That's very generous of you."

"Don't worry about it," Magda says, continuing to stare at Fjord. "I'll just go and, uh, package this up," she says, quietly, as if it pains her to tear herself away from Fjord, and heads off. 

Fjord watches her go, and once she's walked through the doorway of the backroom, he turns to Caleb, a smug smile on his face. "Well, would you look at that."

"Congratulations," Caleb says, dryly, "you just flirted your way to a twenty percent discount."

Fjord laughs quietly. "Is that what you'd call that?"

"Wouldn't you?" Caleb asks, tilting his head.

"Trust me, Caleb," Fjord says, winking, "I think you'd be able to tell if I was really flirting." 

Caleb is mortified to find his own face heating up. "I'm not so sure," he says, looking down at the counter.

"You okay there, Caleb?" Fjord asks, laughter in his voice. "You're looking a little sunburnt."

Caleb is saved from answering as the door clicks open, and Magda returns to the till. "And how are you planning on paying?" Magda asks, laying the wrapped bundle of paper back down on the counter. "You can pay up front, of course, but we could also open up an account for you, if you were planning on, uh, coming back."

"We'll pay up front," Fjord says, gently, reaching for his satchel. 

"Fjord, stop," Caleb says, waving him off. "I will pay for this."

"I really don't mind paying," Fjord says.

"I know," Caleb says, "and it's very kind of you, but I do have funds of my own."

Fjord nods, hand coming off his satchel. "Alright, then."

"Perhaps," Caleb says, "if you are so eager to spend your money, you could purchase those cards you were looking at."

"Why?" Fjord asks. "Did you like them?"

Caleb sighs. "Honestly, freund, I didn't really get a chance to look at them. But _you_ seemed to like them, and you should get them if you want them."

"Nah," Fjord says. "They just- well, they just reminded me of Molly, is all."

"Molly?" Magda asks, innocently, and Caleb knows what she's inferred but he's also not going to bother to correct her.

"Fjord," Caleb starts, softly, instead, "are you sure you don't want to buy them?"

Fjord shakes his head. "There were only a few cards there; I don't think it was quite a full deck. And I feel like if Molly were here, he'd tell me that was bad luck, or something," he says, smiling slightly. "Besides, I kinda had my eye on those healing potions we saw at the herbalist, anyway."

"Alright," Caleb says. "Why don't you go ahead then? I'll find you in the square once I'm done paying for this."

"Sounds like a plan," Fjord says, pushing away from the counter. "Thank you again, Magda, for all your help."

"Oh, you're welcome," Magda says as Fjord retreats. "Come back anytime!" she calls as he exits, and Caleb swears he hears a faint "please" tacked on to the end of it. To Caleb, she asks, "will that be everything?"

Caleb looks at the five sticks of incense down on the counter. "How much," he asks, "for the whole jar?"

Magda glances over at the jar of incense. There's enough in it to maybe change Frumpkin three times, which Caleb knows should place the price at around 30 gold. "40 gold," Magda says, instead.

Caleb smiles to himself, and thinks _yeah, that sounds about right._ "I'll take the lot."

Magda nods, and disappears into the back again to wrap up the incense. "That will be 80 gold, all together."

Caleb passes the coins over to her, and she begins to count them. Watching her do so, Caleb is struck by a sudden amusing thought. "Magda, do you like to do a lot of reading?" he asks.

"Not really," Magda says, pausing in her task to look up at him. "Why?"

"Shame," Caleb says, smiling. "There's this book I think you'd really like. It's called _Tusk Love._ I know not everyone's into the romance novels, but I've heard great things."

Magda turns a very bright red again and looks back down at the money on the counter. "I'll keep it in mind," she mumbles, pushing his purchases towards him. "Have a good day," she says, sounding like she entirely does not mean it. 

"You too," Caleb says, picking up the parcels. He heads out the door, and Magda doesn't bother telling him to come back anytime. 

Just as they discussed, Caleb finds Fjord in the market square. "Got everything?" Fjord asks him, looking out towards the water.

"I think so," Caleb says. "Did you manage to get the potions?" 

Fjord doesn't respond, continuing to stare off into the distance.

"Fjord?" Caleb prompts. 

"Hmm?" Fjord asks. "Oh, yeah, I bought them."

"Is everything alright?" Caleb asks, a tinge of worry in his tone. "You seem distracted."

"I'm fine, I'm just..." Fjord says, trailing off. "Caleb, do you see all those ships out there?" 

Caleb follows Fjord's line of sight out towards the docks, and beyond them he can just make out dozens of specks bobbing around in the water. "I do," he confirms.

"And do they look like they're getting any closer?" 

Caleb watches the water for a long minute, and sure enough, the specks grow larger, coming close enough for Caleb to make out the whites of their sails. "Ja," Caleb says, squinting.

"That, uh, worry you at all?" Fjord asks, jaw clenched.

"Maybe we should head for the docks," Caleb murmurs. "Just to see what's happening."

"Yeah," Fjord says, "but maybe message Nott and give her a head's up. Just in case we need to get out of here quick."

Caleb nods and pulls out his copper wire. "Nott?" he asks, hoping she's within range.

 _"Yes?"_ Nott responds after a moment, her voice faint. 

"Where are you right now?" Caleb asks. "It's hard to hear you."

_"We're just finishing up with the bee tour. I'm walking and talking."_

"You're done already?"

Nott sighs deeply. _"Well, it started to finish up right around the time that Beau tried to see if she could catch a bee flying out of the air."_

"Why?" Caleb asks, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. 

_"I don't know,"_ Nott says, wearily. _"Why does Beau do anything?"_ There's a brief pause, then, _"I don't care if Yasha was watching, it was still stu-"_

"Nott? Are you there?" Caleb prompts. 

_"Sorry, I meant to say that last part to Beau. Why? Where are you guys?"_

"We've just finished shopping," Caleb says, "but we think something's happening at the docks. Can you meet us there?" 

_"We'll be right there,"_ Nott says. 

"Meet us by the ship," Caleb says. 

_"See you in ten,"_ Nott says. _"Beau, could you shut up for a second? Caleb wants us to... Oh, sorry, Caleb, I did it again. See you."_

"Let's get going," Fjord says, once Caleb's moved the wire away from his lips. "It's best if we can find trouble before trouble can find us." 

"Agreed," Caleb says, and together they head for the docks as the ships start to close in. 

__

***

Despite what should have been a head start, Caleb and Fjord arrive at the docks to find the rest of their group already there. Nott, Jester, Yasha and Caduceus appear deep in discussion when they arrive, but Beau, sitting with her feet dangling over the edge of the dock, notices them and waves a cloth-covered hand. "They're here, guys," she says to the group.

"Oh, good," Caduceus says. "We were starting to think you meant some other ship. You didn't exactly specify."

"Yeah, what took you so long?" Beau asks, wincing as she uses her hands to help her stand up from the pier.

"We got here as fast as we could," Fjord says. "How did you beat us here?"

"Well," Beau says, "we must have been pretty close to you guys if Nott got your message. Guess we just walk faster."

" _Some_ of us walk faster," Nott gripes. "The rest of us are then also forced to walk faster so we don't lose her."

Beau rolls her eyes. "I wouldn't get lost," she says. 

Nott levels her with a withering glance. "Thirty minutes ago you told us 'I won't get hurt' and 'I'll be fine' and 'trust me, this will be really cool', and none of those things were true, so forgive me for not exactly believing you."

"Wait, what happened to you?" Fjord asks.

"You didn't tell him, Caleb?" Jester asks, as Beau holds out her bandaged hand for Fjord to inspect.

"She got stung by a bee," Caleb says, filling Fjord in. "It didn't seem important."

"Ouch," Beau says, cradling her hand. "That almost hurt more than the actual bee sting."

Caleb sighs. "It didn't seem important at the time," he amends. "Besides, I figured you'd stop complaining once Jester healed you."

"Yeah, _once_ Jester heals me," Beau mutters under her breath.

"So she didn't heal you?"

"Nope," Beau says, popping the 'p'.

Caleb quirks an eyebrow at Jester, who pulls a face in response. "It's a bee sting, Caleb," she says. "It's not like she's gonna _die_. I thought about healing her for a second and the Traveler _laughed_ at me." 

Caduceus nods. "Some mistakes are meant to be learned from," he says.

"How did you manage to get stung, anyway?" Fjord asks. "I thought you were just supposed to go talk to them."

"I mean, maybe Caleb's right," Beau says. "Is that really important at this time?"

"You're right," Fjord says, shaking his head. "It's almost not worth mentioning at all."

"Okay," Beau says. "You don't need to be a dick about it."

"I'm not being a dick," Fjord says, "I'm just focusing on the task at hand. So, since you guys got here way ahead of us, did you manage to learn anything in the time you've been waiting for us?"

The rest of the group exchange quiet glances for a moment before Yasha clears her throat. "They're Crownsguard ships," she says. "What?" she asks, in response to the surprised faces of the rest, ducking her head a little. "I notice things, sometimes."

Caleb closes his eyes and recalls the map he's seen Fjord consult so many times. "Fjord, we're still in the Menagerie Coast, aren't we?"

"Yeah," Fjord says, "we are."

"So why would the Crownsguard be here?" Caleb asks. 

"I don't know," Fjord says, jaw clenching. "They've never come through here previously."

Jester gasps. "Do you think they're here for the, you know, _thingy?_ " she asks, making fluttery movements with her fingers.

"The what?" Fjord asks.

"You know," Jester says, nodding to her bag, "the _thingy_."

"No, I don't think they're here for the thingy," Fjord says, mimicking Jester's movements.

"But, like, how can you be sure?" Jester says, her hands continuing to flutter.

"You're right, Jester," Fjord says. "I can't be sure. Why don't you go and ask a Crownsguard if they're here for the thingy? See how that goes."

"Wow," Jester says, dropping her hand motions. "Beau's right. You're being a dick right now."

Fjord groans, hands going up to his face to massage his temples. "I apologize. I'm not trying to be a dick, really. I'm just- I'm focusing."

"Are you sure?" Jester asks. "Because you keep getting distracted."

"Yeah, Fjord, focus," Nott drawls, fiddling with her crossbow. "Maybe at the end of it you'll get some shiny buttons to take home."

"Look," Beau interjects, "do you want me to get Tracy to ask the guards what's up?"

"Who's Tracy?" Caduceus asks, looking behind him. "Is there a member of the crew I don't know about? Or did you make a new friend?"

Beau shakes her head. "No, Cad, Tracy is me. Or, I'm Tracy? I don't know. Tracy's the part of me that's good with pretending to be nice to people and flirting with them to get information."

"Oh good," Caduceus says, "because I really haven't been budgeting enough food for another crew member."

"I mean, we could just get Fjord to flirt with the Crownsguard," Caleb says, shrugging. "He seems pretty good at it."

"Okay," Beau says, slowly, as Fjord blushes. "We don't have time to unravel _that_ right now."

"This is getting nowhere," Fjord says. "I'm just gonna go ask. See ya."

Beau scoffs. "Please, like we'd let you go anywhere without backup."

Fjord ends up flagging down the first Crownsguard that passes by. "Excuse me, sir?"

The guard looks at Fjord and then looks wistfully towards the rest of the docks. "Yes, what is it?" he asks, after a moment, sighing.

"So sorry to trouble you," Fjord says, holding up his hands and smiling. "We're travelers from Trostenwald. Forgive us, it's just so unusual to see the Crownsguard this far in the Menagerie Coast; we were wondering if something was going on."

The guard glances down his nose at them. "You're all travelling... together?" he asks. His eyes conspicuously flick over Yasha, Caduceus, Jester, and Nott, before settling back on Fjord. "Not the most conventional group, are you?"

Fjord maintains his smile, but the light leaves his eyes. "We're business partners," he says. 

"Ah, and what sort of business would that be?" the guard smirks, crossing his arms at his chest. 

"Well, we are from Trostenwald," Beau says, smiling with narrowed eyes. "I trust you would have heard of the Baumbach family of brewers? They're very well known, so you should recognize the name, at least. Pretty influential, extremely rich, you know the deal. Anyway, the Baumbach's are looking to expand into the mead business, and we've been told the honey produced here is exceptional. In fact, Jes, why don't you show this nice man the honey we bought today?"

"Oh, right," Jester says, her voice exaggeratedly deeper than usual. "Look," she says, producing a glass amber-colored jar from her bag. 

"See?" Beau says, voice steely. "Exceptional."

The Crownsguard man looks them over, the smirk slipping from his face. "I'm sorry, you had a question for me?"

"Just wondering what brings you to the Bisaft," Fjord says, "that's all."

The guard shifts back and forth on his feet. "I suppose I could let you know. Are you planning on heading back to Trostenwald soon?"

"We were planning on leaving in the next couple of days," Fjord says. "Why? Is something going on?"

"You might want to delay your return a little," the guard says. "There's been an attack. A few days ago the Xhorhasians crossed over the Ashkeeper Peaks and attacked Felderwin. They burned entire fields to the ground, and no one's sure now if there's going to be enough food for the winter."

"Do you know if there were any casualties?" Nott asks, sharply. 

The guard frowns. "Probably. You know how barbaric they get in Xhorhas."

Yasha's grip tightens on the hilt of her sword. "Oh?" she asks, through gritted teeth.

"I wouldn't be surprised if the Cricks took even more children," the guard continues, unaware. "It's a bunch of nasty business."

"Yes," Yasha says, lowly, "I've heard they eat them."

The guard laughs. "Would you expect anything less from the under-elves?"

Fjord coughs. "But how does that bring you to the Bisaft?" he asks, sending Yasha a warning glance as he does so.

"We're stocking up for our voyage ahead. We've realized we can't beat them by going through the mountains," the guardsman says. "That gives them too much of an advantage, but maybe we can surprise them by storming the coast."

"And we wish you luck on your endeavors," Fjord says, "but to clarify, Trostenwald has not been attacked?" 

"Not to my knowledge," the guard says, "though, personally, I wouldn't trust going anywhere near that mountain range. Trostenwald at least has the benefit of being somewhat inland, although that didn't seem to help Felderwin much. But it's only a matter of time before they go for Diastok or Kamordah. I'd be careful going there, if I was you."

"Thanks for the heads up," Fjord says. "We wish you safe travels."

The guard nods in return and takes his leave. "I've changed my mind, Fjord," Jester says, crinkling her nose, "I think this island just turns everyone into dicks."

"Well, at least he answered our questions," Caduceus says. "And Beau, that was remarkable. Does that part of you have a name as well?"

"Yeah," she says. "Beau."

"Fair enough."

"So, are we just not concerned about what the guard told us?" Beau asks, crossing her arms.

Jester hums. "I mean, we already kinda knew there was fighting in the Empire. Remember in Zadash?" 

"I know," Beau says, "but besides Zadash all we knew was that kids were being taken from the mountains up north, and now they're moving to the interior."

"They lit a few fields on fire in some town," Fjord says. "It's not great, but I don't think it's our concern right now."

"Maybe it's not your concern, Fjord," Nott says, sharply, "but for those of us from 'some town', it's a little troubling."

Jester gasps. "Nott, you're from Felderwin?"

"Close by," Nott says, "but still."

"I'm so sorry," Jester says. "Do you think everyone you- do you think they'll be safe?"

"Maybe. I sent them a package," Nott says, wistfully, "not too long ago. I wonder if they ever got it."

Jester grabs Nott's hands and holds them. "I'm sure they did, Nott."

"And, uh, I feel kinda shitty making this about me," Beau says, clearing her throat, "but that guy said it's only a matter of time before they attack Kamordah. And I mean, I feel like _I'm_ kinda shitty only because everyone _else_ there is kinda shitty, and I hated growing up there, but I'd like a chance to go back, you know? Even if it's just to tell everyone to fuck off, or whatever."

"Understood," Fjord says, somberly. "Do you want us to go back there?"

"Nah," Beau says, sniffing. "We've got things we need to do here." 

"Are you sure?" Fjord asks.

Beau shakes her head. "Come on, man. Don't ask me that."

"Why?"

"Because if you ask me one more time," Beau says, avoiding eye contact with the group, "I might say yes."

Looking at the expressions on Beau's and Nott's faces, Caleb feels a twinge of regret that his first thought after hearing the news about the Empire had been _good, let it burn._ "Beauregard-"

"Save it, Caleb," Beau says. "We came all this way, it seems dumb to turn back now."

"Yeah," Nott says, quietly. "Who even knows what we'd be going back to."

"But the things we're doing here aren't going anywhere," Fjord says. "If you guys want to go home, then we'll go. No one in the group is gonna take issue with that."

"Nott said it best," Beau says. "We don't know what we're going back to. What if we get there and it's months, or even years, before we can get out again? We're just gonna come back here after all of that and find, I don't know, another Avantika trying to get the orbs? There's no point, Fjord."

"Well," Caduceus says, patting Beau on the shoulder, "we don't need to decide now. We're here for the next few days at least, with nowhere else to go, and that should give us plenty of time to talk it out. But the sun's starting to set, maybe we should get some supper and get some rest. It's been a long day."

Jester nods and squeezes Nott's hands in hers. "Caduceus has a good point, maybe we should just go sit and eat something. I mean, we haven't even asked you how you feel, Yasha. That guard wasn't exactly the nicest."

"What is there to say?" Yasha says, shrugging. "I hope his ship wrecks on the coast and he drowns in his sleep, but that's out of my hands."

"Right," Caduceus says, smiling. "So why don't we go get something to eat?"

Fjord clears his throat. "You guys go on ahead without me. I think I'm gonna tuck in for the night."

"Are you sure?" Jester asks. "We haven't eaten since, like, lunch."

"Yeah," Fjord says, wearily. "I'm just not really that hungry, is all."

"Well, alright," Jester says as Fjord nods to the group and begins to head for the inn. 

Beau eyes Fjord as he walks away. "How long do you think it takes before he realizes that he doesn't know where his room is and that he also doesn't have the key? My money's on five minutes."

"Oh, shoot," Jester says, fishing a key out of her pocket. "Hey Fjord! Wait up!"

***

Dinner is- for once- a fairly subdued affair, as Jester spends most of it recounting the events of their bee tour to Caleb. "They were so cute, Caleb," she enthuses. "I could have stayed there all day if Beau hadn't gotten us kicked out."

"I didn't get us kicked out," Beau insists, continuing to nurse her stung hand. "The tour just happened to end right after-"

"Anyway," Jester says, raising her voice to speak over Beau, "I managed to buy, like, a _ton_ of honey, so don't forget to remind me later and I'll get you your jar."

"Thank you, Jester," Caleb says, touched. "That was very thoughtful of you."

Jester beams. "Please, don't mention it. It's not that much. Oh! Also, Yasha managed to find some really pretty flowers. Show him, Yasha."

Yasha colors slightly. "Oh, I don't know if he wants to-"

"Yasha, I'd love to take a look," Caleb says, earnestly. "If you don't mind showing me, that is."

"Alright," Yasha says, smiling softly. She reaches into her satchel and pulls out a leather-bound book, flipping the pages until she comes to the last dog-eared page. "They're a little small," she says, quietly, "but I've never seen flowers that blue before."

"They're very pretty," Caleb says, and Yasha beams. "My mother called them Vergissmeinnicht," he says, the memory suddenly overwhelming him. 

"I've got some more I could show you, if you want," she says, when he goes quiet. She flips to the front of the book, revealing a four-leaf clover. "I found this the day I met Molly," she says, quietly. 

Caleb knows whatever he could say to her will never be enough of an apology, or enough of a comfort. Knows that words will never be enough to express the remorse he feels that Molly was not there to greet her when she woke up after everything that happened with Lorenzo. So instead he brushes his thumb over hers. "I have heard they bring good luck," he says. 

"Yeah," Yasha says, "but I guess I'm not really sure if I believe that." She flips to the next page, and Caleb spends the next several minutes listening silently as Yasha describes the flowers pressed into her book and how she found them. There's a few times where she flips to a page and stares at a flower for a several seconds before moving on to the next without saying anything, but Caleb doesn't mention it. Trauma follows him around like an old friend, and he can recognize now when it is also acquainted with others.

Once Yasha closes her book, and once the conversation turns back to Beau unsuccessfully trying to plead her case with the clerics, Nott tugs on Caleb's jacket. "You're being quiet," she says, taking a swig from her flask. "Something wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," Caleb says. "I'm just tired. It's been a very long day, for all of us, and I think it's finally catching up with me. I should probably turn in for the night."

Nott stares at him for a long time, absentmindedly fiddling with her flask. "Caleb, are you sure you're okay?" 

"Of course," Caleb says, thrown. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"I just..." Nott says, before trailing off. "Are you happy, Caleb?" she asks, after a moment of silence.

"Yes," Caleb says, and is only slightly surprised to find it feels like the truth. "I can honestly say this is the happiest I've been in years."

Nott smiles briefly, just a small upturn of her lips, and puts her hand on his cheek. "I'm glad," she says, the corners of her eyes crinkling. She pats Caleb once on the cheek before drawing her hand away. "I think I'm going to stay out here and talk with the rest of the group for a bit, but you should go get some sleep. I'll see you later."

"Nott," Caleb starts, feeling disoriented. "Are you alright?"

Nott shakes her flask at him in response. "I'm always alright," she says. "Now seriously, get. Go to bed."

"I guess I'll take my leave," Caleb says, and gets up from the table. 

"Good night, Caleb," Jester says, pressing the key to his room into his palm. "The rooms are on the second floor," she directs. "You and Nott are on the first room to your left once you head up the stairs. But try to be quiet- Fjord's in the room beside yours and I think he's trying to sleep."

Caleb nods, filing away that information. "Good night everyone," he says, and heads out of the room, a chorus of "good night" following him out the door.

He heads up the stairs, quietly, as per Jester's instructions, and goes to unlock his room. As he does so, he notices a dim light coming out from under the door to the room beside him. Caleb thinks for a moment about knocking on Fjord's door, but dismisses the thought and enters his room, shutting the door behind him. The room is exactly as Jester had described earlier that day- four walls, two beds, one window, and not much else.

Caleb dumps his bag on the bed against the inside wall, digs inside for a spool of silver thread, and goes through the familiar motions of setting up an alarm spell. Once he's satisfied with his work, he sits down on the bed and leans his back against the wall. Exhausted, he closes his eyes and starts to nod off. 

A faint shifting sound comes from the other side of the wall, followed by the soft creaking of bed springs. Caleb opens his eyes and, feeling ridiculous, raises a hand to knock twice on the wall at his back. There's another faint shifting noise, and then Caleb hears a knock in return, making him smile. "Good night, Fjord," he calls. 

A muffled laugh answers. "Good night, Caleb."

Fighting the urge to fall asleep, Caleb leans forward and grabs his spell book from his bag, running his finger over the binding. He flips to the first dog-eared page, and contemplates changing Frumpkin back into his familiar cat form.

The door to the room opens then, and Nott stumbles through. "Oh, you're here," she says, upon noticing Caleb.

Caleb tilts his head. "Where else would I be?" 

"I don't know," Nott says, throwing up her hands. "Don't mind me, I'm just a little drunk, still."

Caleb watches, fondly, as Nott jumps into her bed and starts struggling to take off her shoes. As he does so, the memory of their conversation with the Crownsguard man from earlier washes back over him. He feels suddenly overcome by the realization that he's been a terrible friend, and asks what he should have earlier, "Nott, are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she says, flopping back down on her bed, apparently deciding that taking off her shoes is too much effort. "I'll probably be a bit hungover in the morning, but who isn't?"

"That's not exactly what I meant," Caleb says. "You received some terrible news today, Nott. How are you feeling about it?"

Nott stays quiet for so long that Caleb starts to wonder if she's fallen asleep. "It's strange," she eventually whispers, "but I don't think I feel anything yet. It just doesn't even feel real right now. Does that make any sense?"

"Yes," Caleb says, lying down in bed and closing his eyes. "I know just what you mean."

"And what about you?" Nott asks. "You're from the Empire, too, and we didn't really ask you how you felt about it."

"You know I feel about the Empire, Nott," Caleb says.

Nott sighs. "I know, but it's still your home, Caleb. It's okay to feel upset about it."

"The Empire hasn't been my home for a long time," Caleb corrects, gently. "My home is with all of you, now, and if that takes me to the Empire so be it, but-" 

He's interrupted by the sound of two large thumps, causing him to open his eyes just in time to see Nott fling her arms around him in a hug. "I think we're finally on the same page, now, Caleb Widogast."

Caleb smiles and hugs Nott back, if a little awkwardly. "I like them," he says, echoing a long ago conversation. Nott pokes him in the side. "A lot," he amends, rolling his eyes.

"You love them," Nott says, poking him again, "and one day, you're gonna say it out loud."

"I hope you're prepared to wait. Could be a while," Caleb says, just to push her buttons. 

Nott pulls away from the hug then, grinning. "I've got time," she says, padding back over to her bed. "Good night, Caleb Widogast."

Caleb laughs, closing his eyes. "Good night, Nott, the Brave."

***

The sunlight streaming in from behind the curtains wakes Caleb the next morning, and with a quick glance out the window he realizes he's slept in until noon. Caleb groans, dragging his hand down his face. Caleb stares up at the ceiling and allows himself a few minutes longer in bed, trying to collect his thoughts.

 _Get up, Caleb Widogast,_ an old, familiar voice in the back of his mind sneers, cool and taunting. _You've got things to do._

Caleb rolls his eyes but sits up regardless. The voice isn't wrong, after all. He _does_ have things to do. And they may not be the things that he had planned on doing twenty years ago, or even a year ago, but that doesn't make them any less important. _So get up, Caleb Widogast,_ he thinks, slipping on his jacket, _and go apologize to your friend._

It's only when Caleb knocks on Fjord's door that he stops to consider the possibility that Fjord may be out with the others, having lunch. Feeling stupid, Caleb starts to back away from the door when he hears, "come in."

Caleb enters the room, shutting the door behind him. Fjord, sitting on his bed, looks up as he enters, and it becomes immediately apparent that Fjord did not get much sleep last night. His eyes are bloodshot, and there are heavy bags underneath them. His hair is sticking up in all directions, as if he'd been nervously tugging through it again. He looks, quite honestly, terrible. "Fjord," Caleb asks, "is everything alright?"

"I'm fine," Fjord says, rubbing his eyes. "Just had a lot to think about, I guess." 

"Something troubling you?" Caleb asks, hovering awkwardly by the doorway. 

"Something's always troubling me," Fjord mutters, shoulders hunched.

"Ouch," Caleb says, dryly. 

Fjord laughs, and some of Caleb's concern melts away. "Not you," Fjord says.

"Good," Caleb says. "I'd hate to be the one keeping you up at night."

Fjord coughs and, then, for some reason that Caleb can't discern, flushes, the color in his cheeks turning a dark emerald green. "Caleb," he says, after a moment, "was there something you wanted to talk about?"

"Yes," Caleb says, staring quizzically at the new, dark tint to Fjord's features. "But if you're not feeling up to it-"

"Caleb," Fjord interrupts, waving. "Have a seat," he says, smiling, gesturing to the empty space in the bed beside him.

Caleb sits on the bed opposite Fjord instead. Fjord looks strangely stung by the gesture, and Caleb tries, without much success, to not let himself feel bad about it. "Yesterday, on the beach," Caleb says, picking at his cuticles, "you told me that you could tell I was being honest, because of this _thing_ between us."

"Right," Fjord says, slowly. "Caleb, I don't-"

"But, you also told me that you thought you would've believed me anyway," Caleb continues, looking up at Fjord. "What I'm about to say isn't going to be easy, for me, and I'm not sure I want you to feel my emotions, or how honest I am, or whatever, during it. Not because I'm trying to lie to you, or because I don't mean what I'm saying," Caleb says, gently, "but because I want you to trust me, Fjord."

"Alright," Fjord says, standing up. Caleb wonders if he's going to walk out, and figures he wouldn't blame him for it. "Move over," Fjord says, instead, grabbing the pillow off of his bed. "And pass me that pillow beside you, would you?"

"Why?" Caleb asks, confused by this sudden turn of events.

"Hey," Fjord says, winking, "you trust me, don't you?"

Caleb rolls his eyes but passes Fjord the pillow as requested. "You're rarely as funny as you think you are, you know that?"

"See," Fjord says, laughing, "you're already trying to lie to me."

"I should have thrown that pillow at you," Caleb says, lowly, as Fjord, still laughing, sits down on the bed and begins to stack the pillows between them. "What are you doing?" he asks.

Fjord shrugs. "Building a barrier between us."

"Okay," Caleb says, slowly. "Now, why are you doing it?"

"You said that whatever you're about to say isn't going to be easy for you," Fjord says. "I thought you might want to have a friend with you when you say it."

A heavy, warm feeling blooms in Caleb's chest, and a smile stretches across his face. "You were still with me when you were across the room," Caleb points out.

"Yeah," Fjord says, "but now I'm on your side. Literally."

"Alright," Caleb says, before the smile slips off his face. "Fjord, I came here because I wanted to apologize to you. I realize I haven't actually done that, yet."

"Oh, right," Fjord says, swallowing. He looks caught off guard, for a second. "I was supposed to remind you about that, wasn't I?"

"That's okay," Caleb says. "I have a pretty good memory. But this isn't about my memory, Fjord, this is about me wanting to apologize to you about Avantika."

Fjord angles himself so he's facing Caleb even more directly. "Why?" he asks. "You realize that wall of fire actually saved us, don't you? That was incredible, and if you hadn't done it she would have had us killed. And if you're sorry about what happened after," Fjord says, quietly, "she got what she deserved, Caleb. She wasn't exactly a good person."

"I know," Caleb cuts in, sharply, "and I'm sorry I made you compromise yourself for her."

"Caleb," Fjord starts, quietly, "what are you talking about?"

"I know I didn't outright tell you to sleep with her," Caleb says, avoiding Fjord's gaze, "but I certainly implied it when I told you to do what you had to to keep relations, uh, up between the two of you. And by implying it, I again thought I was giving you a choice. And this is no fault of yours, Fjord, perhaps more telling of my own boundaries, but I had thought you would choose to say no. When what I should have done," Caleb says, his throat tight, "was tell you that you could say no, if you wanted to. Let you know that we could have figured out something else."

"I'm not sure that we could have," Fjord says, causing Caleb to look at him. "I mean, to be honest, a big part of me did want you guys to tell me that, no, I didn't have to sleep with her. But it was still my choice, you know that, right? I just..." Fjord says, trailing off for a while. "I just realized that even if I tried to put it off, it would just be putting it off. She'd get what she wanted, eventually."

"But I don't care about what Avantika wants, or wanted," Caleb says. "I care about what _you_ want, and if you didn't want to sleep with her, I should have had your back on that."

"And I appreciate that," Fjord says, firmly, "but I don't want you to feel sorry about a choice I made, especially when it's not like I haven't had to make that choice before."

Caleb freezes, a coolness settling in his stomach. "What?" he asks.

Fjord ducks his head. "I didn't have a lot, before I met Vandren," he says, shrugging. 

"Fjord," Caleb says, quietly. "Did Vandren-"

"Not like that," Fjord says, horrified. "What I meant was that before I met Vandren, I wasn't exactly in the best place," he continues, "and sometimes I did what I had to to make sure I had food to eat and a place to stay. I'm not exactly proud of it, but it was my choice then and it was my choice with Avantika too. But, hey, maybe that's more telling of my own personal boundaries."

"I'm so sorry," Caleb says. 

Fjord shrugs. "It is what it is, you know?"

Caleb looks at Fjord's body in profile, then, and sees how Fjord's shoulders are hunched and trembling, sees how he's nervously tugging a hand through his hair, and thinks, fuck it. Thinks that his friend just told him something that couldn't have been easy to say, thinks that Fjord's hurting, and thinks that's way more important than whether or not Fjord trusts him. "Maybe," Caleb says, gently, holding out a hand over the makeshift pillow barrier, "but I'm still sorry it happened to you."

Fjord takes his hand then, and Caleb feels a dull aching sensation, like a cut that's long been scabbed over. It makes Caleb wonder about what Fjord feels when he touches him, what he feels but is too polite to say. _I know. Thank you,_ he hears Fjord's voice say, and Fjord squeezes his hand once and then twice before letting go.

Caleb brings his hand back over to his side of the pillow barrier. "Fjord," he says, once the moment has passed. "I think we should talk about Uk'otoa, and I think we should do it soon."

Fjord tilts his head, slightly. "Why, is something wrong?"

"Not exactly," Caleb says. "You just said something interesting, yesterday. When you asked Beau if she wanted to go home, you had told her that the things we're trying to do here aren't going anywhere. That if she wanted to go home we'd go, no issue."

"Yeah?" Fjord asks. 

"I wanted to know if you meant it, or not," Caleb says, "or if you were just saying that, for Beau's sake."

Fjord shakes his head. "No, I meant it."

"Okay," Caleb says, "but did you mean it because Beau wanted it, or because you wanted it?"

"Caleb," Fjord starts, "I don't-"

"I guess what I'm asking is, what _do_ you want, Fjord?" Caleb asks, fidgeting with the end of a pillow case. "Do you want to keep looking for temples? Because if you do, I'm behind you. But I don't actually know if you do, because I can't remember ever asking you what you want, Fjord. Do you want to keep finding these orbs for Uk'otoa? Like you said, they're not going anywhere."

Fjord pauses. "I know, Caleb, but I don't know how much of this is about what I want."

"And why not?" Caleb asks. "Do you want to continue with what we're doing, or not?"

"It's not that simple," Fjord says, exasperatedly. "I don't think Uk'otoa rescued me from that shipwreck just for me to decide I wanted nothing to do with him. There's an understanding, here."

"Is there?" Caleb asks. "Because I know I'm the least qualified person to tell you this right now, but you don't actually owe him anything. I don't care if he pulled you from a million shipwrecks, you still wouldn't owe him anything. Have we ever expected anything of the people we save?"

"No," Fjord says, "but that doesn't mean we haven't gotten anything out of it."

Caleb frowns. "Is that what you want? Some kind of reward?"

"No," Fjord repeats. "But," he says, sighing, "I told you once that these days I've had with you- all of you- have been the most exciting of my entire life, and I don't think I'm ready to give that up, yet."

"And you wouldn't have to," Caleb says. "I'm not sure why you think that you would."

Fjord shakes his head. "Because the only reason I'm able to keep up with you guys is because of Uk'otoa," he says. "Every one of you are impressive all on your own. You cast spells; Jester and Cad heal people; and Beau, Yasha, and Nott kick ass. But everything special about me? The falchion? My spells? That's all from Uk'otoa. And I don't know what happens when I walk away from that. What if I lose everything? And then how long is it gonna be before I can't keep up anymore?"

"Fjord," Caleb says, "I think you're underestimating yourself, because if you think the only thing special about you is your sword or your spells, you're doing yourself a great disservice. So what if you lose your spells? I've met plenty of assholes who can cast spells, and I'll admit, it's impressive. But none of that makes them special, and it doesn't make you special, either. What makes you special are the same things that make you worth following, freund. Like how you're always trying to do the right thing."

"But that still doesn't mean I end up doing the right thing, Caleb."

"I know, but you still always try," Caleb says, "and I think maybe that's the difference. I don't know a lot of people that would risk their lives to fight a murderous tin can in some prison for a few orphans, but you tried because you cared and you succeeded. That's what's impressive about you, Fjord. You're empathetic. You care about others. Not a lot of people would have taken a chance on me and Nott, but you did."

Fjord shifts uncomfortably. "I'm sure someone would have."

"Maybe," Caleb agrees, "but Nott and I had been travelling together for months and no one had before. Until we met you guys, no one would give us the time of day unless we were selling them something."

"What if my first thought wasn't exactly to welcome you guys into our group?" Fjord asks. "What would you think then?"

Caleb shrugs. "I'd still think the same thing. Because that first thought you had, Fjord? I don't really care about it. It was an instinct, and I don't think it was necessarily a bad one. Nott and I weren't exactly ideal companions. No, I care about your second thought, or your third, or whatever. I care about the thought that you listened to, the one that told you to take a chance on us, because that's the one that mattered. You decided to be empathetic when you didn't have to be, and that impresses me more than a spell ever could."

"That's really how you feel?" Fjord asks. 

"Yes, that's how I really feel," Caleb confirms, a small smile on his face, "and I still think there's plenty about you that's impressive besides that. You can be incredibly charming when you want to be, is another one, and I don't think you realize how much of a skill that is. And you have this great motivational drive to figure things out, this curiosity, that I understand and admire. But lately I've also come to fear it," Caleb says, seriously, "because I think Uk'otoa's using that curiosity to take advantage of you."

"Taking advantage of me how?" Fjord asks, shoulders tensing. "I don't-"

"You mean besides the obvious?" Caleb says, speaking over Fjord. "Because in case it isn't obvious, here's an example for you, Fjord: after everything you've done for Uk'otoa, after all the sacrifices you've made for him, has he ever given you a straightforward answer?"

"Not exactly," Fjord says, gritting his teeth. "I mean, you saw, you know what it's like."

"So he's asking you to do things for him without letting you know the plan?" Caleb asks. "Sounds like he's using you. Again, I know I'm least qualified person to say this to you, but-"

"Could you please stop saying that?" Fjord interjects. 

Caleb falters. "What?"

"Because I don't feel like you're taking advantage of me," Fjord says. "Whatever that favor ends up being, chances are I would have helped you with it anyway. We're a team, right?"

Caleb ignores the sick feeling that rises up inside of him. "Right," he says, instead. "And as a member of this team, I'm going to ask you again: what do you want to do, Fjord?"

Fjord is silent for several moments, looking down and studying his hands. "Maybe we should head back to the Empire. Beau's right, she should get a chance to see her hometown again, and I'd hate to take that away from her."

"Are you sure?" Caleb asks. "I know it sounded like I was trying to talk you out of it, but none of us really have an issue with continuing on to the temple."

"I'm sure," Fjord says. "I'm not sure now is the best time to go anyway."

Caleb watches as Fjord traces over the scar on his palm and winces, and the gears click slowly into place. "Because you don't want me to be there," he realizes.

"Not right now," Fjord says, gently. "I want you by my side, Caleb, but you saw how he reacted to you being in my dream. I don't get the impression he likes you very much." 

_Well, the feeling's mutual,_ Caleb thinks to himself. "So, let's head for land then?"

"Shake on it?" Fjord asks, grinning, holding out his right hand to Caleb over the pillow barrier, palm side up. 

Caleb rolls his eyes. "You really aren't as funny as you think you are," he says, but takes Fjord's hand anyway, palm to palm, scar to scar. 

"And now I definitely know you're lying," Fjord says, waggling his eyebrows. "You think I'm hilarious."

"I'm not sure I'd go that far," Caleb says, right as the door opens.

"I'm sorry," Caduceus says, poking his head out from behind the door. "Am I interrupting something?"

"It's alright, Caduceus," Caleb says, as he extricates his hand out from Fjord's and stands up. "I was just leaving."

"Well, it was nice seeing you, Mister Caleb," Caduceus says, warmly, as Caleb passes by him. 

Caleb, smiling to himself, pats Caduceus on the shoulder. "You too, big guy," he says. 

"See you later, Caleb," Fjord says, raising a hand.

Caleb raises his own in response, waving awkwardly. "See you later," he returns, before leaving the room.

He lingers just long enough, after the door closes behind him, to hear Caduceus say, "I'm sorry, Fjord. Was there a reason we switched beds?"

Caleb smiles, shaking his head. He feels lighter, somehow, like the weight of needing to apologize to Fjord has actually been lifted off of his shoulders. Caleb, for the first time in a long time, feels optimistic about the direction he's heading in, and he carries that momentum with him as he crosses the hall to what he assumes is Jester's room and knocks on the door.

Beau swings open the door after the second knock. "Could you try to be a little more quiet?" she hisses. 

"I'm sorry?" Caleb whispers, his smile slowly falling. "Is Jester there?"

"She's sleeping," Beau says, in a hushed tone. "What do you want?"

"I was just going to ask her for the dodecahedron," Caleb says, and then pauses. "It's... very late in the afternoon," he points out.

Beau rolls her eyes. "So? She had a busy day yesterday, between the bees, and the planning-"

"Planning?" Caleb interjects. "Planning for what?"

Beau stares back at him. "You know what?" she asks, finally. "Jester's bag is right here. Take it, have fun with it, bye," she says, shoving the bag into his arms and shutting the door. 

_Alright,_ Caleb thinks as he heads downstairs to get some breakfast. _Just pretend you heard nothing, and just pretend to be surprised when it blows up in your face. You don't know what Beau was talking about, and you don't want to know what Beau was talking about._

Nott flags him down as he enters the restaurant, a plate piled high with food already in front of her. "Nice bag," she comments, as Caleb takes a seat opposite her. "The color suits you."

"Thank you," Caleb says, absentmindedly. "I had went to go ask jester for the," he pauses, and copies the fluttery gesture he had seen Jester make, " _thingy,_ but Beau answered the door instead, and I think I caught her saying something she shouldn't have, so she just threw the whole bag at me and basically told me to fuck off."

"What'd she say?" Nott asks, pushing the plate of food in front of her towards Caleb. "This is for you, by the way."

"Thanks," Caleb says, picking up a grape off of the plate. "I don't know," he continues, while eating, "she just made reference to some sort of plan, but wouldn't elaborate."

"Oh?" Nott asks, her voice oddly strangled. "What kind of plan, do you think?" she asks, playing with her napkin. 

Caleb sighs and settles back in his chair, hoping against hope that whatever the plan is this time, it at least doesn't involve explosives.

***

That night, once Caleb has set up his alarm spell and long after Nott falls asleep, Caleb takes the dodecahedron and it's container out of the bag, and places them at the foot of the bed. He traces his fingers over the lid of the leaden box, and hesitates for a split second before popping the latch and lifting the lid. The familiar pulsing hum of the dodecahedron echoes in the room, and Caleb quickly takes out the dodecahedron and wraps it up in his jacket, trying to muffle the noise. It works surprisingly well, the noise quieting down to the sound of a faint heartbeat.

Caleb rubs his face with his hands, and tucks the bundle under the covers, near the head of the bed, and settles in for long night. 

Shortly after, Caleb closes his eyes and finds himself falling asleep.

Shortly after, Caleb opens his eyes and finds himself falling into darkness. 

The air rushes past him, and Caleb finds himself trying to spread out his limbs, trying to create some sort of drag, trying to shield himself from the impact. He closes his eyes and imagines himself taking a small feather out of his pocket and throwing it down before him, and feels himself slow and eventually come to a rest.

He opens his eyes to more darkness, inky blue and purple in color, like a day-old bruise. The darkness seems to stretch out forever, farther than anything Caleb can fathom, but he knows innately that it doesn't matter, because he can see through it. He find himself moving forward, or backward, but moving nevertheless into the darkness. His hands reach out in front of him, outside of his own control, and cut through the darkness. As they do, they brush against wisps of smoke streaming past him, wisps that shouldn't have mass but create resistance anyway. 

As he gets closer- to what, is unclear, but undeniably _closer_ \- the wisps begin to take shape, and Caleb realizes he's surrounded by hundreds of thousands of fragments of himself. Older versions of himself. Younger versions. Versions of himself with his burn scars, and versions of himself without. Versions of himself that he doesn't like, parading around in Empire robes and carrying themselves too upright. Versions of himself hunched over and laughing, that he does. And at the peripheral of all of it, something green flits by for a second and catches his eye, but when he tries to stay still and focus on it he finds himself being overrun by all the Calebs. Suddenly, he finds himself spinning, having lost all sense of direction, bodies crashing into him from all sides, and he closes his eyes, trying to get his bearings, and trying to hide, and-

And when he opens them he's alone again. Or, almost alone. A figure with his back turned to him stands before him. Caleb turns to look behind him and finds the figure there again, still facing away from Caleb. Caleb turns to his left and the same thing happens again. He closes his eyes, knowing that looking to his right would be pointless.

The figure laughs in front of him, and it's not so much the laughter itself but Caleb's recognition of it that startles his eyes open. When he does, Fjord stands in front of him, but not the version of Fjord that Caleb knows. _Or not the version that you know yet,_ a part of his mind unhelpfully supplies. This version of Fjord is older, much older, than the Fjord he knows. This Fjord has so much white and grey coloring his hair that it seems more accurate to suggest that his hair has streaks of black, now. The crow's feet at the corners of his eyes are well-defined and deeply set. His armor is different too, looking strangely more ornate but also lighter. But his laugh? That hasn't changed.

Fjord smiles then, closed mouth, and Caleb finds himself drawn to the way his lower canines peek out and rest against his upper lip. Fjord laughs again, as if he has noticed him. 

Caleb feels himself flush then, and he closes his eyes against the embarrassment. When he opens them again, Fjord's still in front of him.

Fjord smiles, before extending his right hand out towards Caleb, palm side up. 

Caleb rolls his eyes, but takes the offered hand anyway, palm to palm, scar to scar. _That never gets old to you, does it?_ he thinks. 

Fjord laughs again, and turns once more away from Caleb, and begins to lead them forward. Wherever it is they're going, Fjord seems to have no problem finding his way, cutting through the darkness with ease, leading Caleb through it for what seems like ages until a light becomes visible on the horizon, becoming brighter and brighter as they continue to walk. Once the light begins to become almost unbearable, Fjord stops and releases Caleb's hand. He shows Caleb his palm, then, and Caleb notices for the first time that the scar there is glowing. Or parts of it, at least, as a heavy dull-colored line crosses through the middle of it, cleaving the scar into two sections.

Caleb looks down at his own palm and finds that his scar also glows, the light pulsing in and out. _Like a heartbeat,_ Caleb realizes. As he looks up from his hand he notices that Fjord is no longer with him, and finds himself again completely alone. With nothing else to do, he turns towards the unbearable brightness and pushes on, until it becomes too much, becomes blinding, and even then he throws an arm up across his face to shield him, and he soldiers on, until-

Until the light fizzles out, suddenly, and Caleb finds himself standing in front of a familiar gray mote floating about ten feet ahead of him. Caleb continues forward, and as he gets closer, he finds himself standing in front of not one mote, but two, tethered together by a thin golden thread. He reaches out to touch the thread, and where his fingers make contact the thread turns blood red for a moment, before the color ripples through the thread and it slowly fades back to gold. Caleb looks at his right palm, then, and with a sudden terrible idea, curls his fingers in towards his palm and presses against his scar. As he does so, the thread once again turns blood red. He releases his scar, and the thread turns golden again.

The first gray mote floats toward him, the other floating off in the other direction, the golden thread between them stretching out for an incredible distance without ever losing slack. Caleb reaches out for the mote, closes his eyes, and-

***

And when he opens them he finds himself back in his bed, and immediately squints against the sunlight streaming in from behind the curtains.

It's noon, again. He's overslept, again. He's confused, again. Why is it that every question that Caleb asks and answers creates fifty more questions that need to be asked and answered?

Caleb groans and rolls over in bed, hearing the sound of paper crinkling as he does. He pulls a crumpled piece of paper out from under his hand, unfolds it, and reads: _We're at the docks, come and meet us there when you're ready. -Jester &Nott (P.S. Fjord told us ~~not to tell Caleb that he Jester you weren't supposed to write that~~ to give you this. We'll leave it on the floor.)_

Caleb squints and reads over the note again, trying to make sense of the post script. After the second read-through he gives up and looks over the side of the bed, finding an almost-full plate of food placed next to it. Caleb chuckles to himself, imagining tiny fingers squirreling away food into pockets.

Caleb sits up in bed and collects the plate of food, settling it onto his lap. The food is cold, probably having been sitting there for a few hours, but the idea that someone thought to leave him food at all causes that warm feeling to settle back in his chest, low and bright and full. Caleb reserves some of the food, setting it aside, before snapping his fingers and summoning Frumpkin.

Frumpkin blinks into existence, his tentacles fanning out as he lands on the wooden floor and tries to find purchase. He tries a couple of times, unsuccessfully, to pull himself up, and then collapses on the floor in a tangled heap. He stares at Caleb unblinkingly, and while his face may not be as expressive as it normally is, Caleb can still register the look of complete and utter disdain.

"I know, buddy," Caleb says, reaching for his spell book. "I know. Don't worry, it's almost over."

Frumpkin twists around on the floor with ease, facing himself more directly towards Caleb, and Caleb is left wondering how much of Frumpkin's previous effort was all for show.

Caleb raises an eyebrow. "You know," he says, nonchalantly, "I really should be going to meet the others at the docks. Maybe this can wait."

Frumpkin lifts himself up as high as he can on his tentacles, and a puddle of ink appears on the floor underneath him. The ink spreads across the floor and seeps into the cracks in the floorboards, and Caleb is very glad that he will not be sticking around long enough to have to explain that to the patrons below.

"Well," Caleb says, poorly hiding a smile, "I guess what they don't know can't hurt them."

Frumpkin's eyes follow Caleb as he collects the incense and walks in a circle around his familiar, pouring the incense out from his hands until Frumpkin sits in the middle of an unbroken circle. 

"Before we get started," Caleb says, squatting down and leaning over Frumpkin, "I'm going to ask you to do me a favor."

Frumpkin matches Caleb's stare, before reaching up with one of his tentacles to tap Caleb on the nose.

"Thank you," Caleb says, and starts to light the incense.

***

One completed spell and one transformed familiar later, Caleb gathers up the rest of his things- taking special care to place the dodecahedron back in its leaden box before placing it in the haversack- and heads towards the dock to meet up with the others. Upon arrival, he is immediately conscripted into helping to load the rest of the ship's materials back onto the boat. It's later, when everything has been made ready and the ship has left the docks that he seeks out Fjord, finding him behind the ship's wheel. "I suppose I should be thanking you," he says, in greeting. 

"Shit, Caleb," Fjord yelps, jumping. "I thought Nott was supposed to be the sneaky one."

"My apologies for scaring you," Caleb says, smiling. 

Fjord shakes his head. "You didn't scare me, alright? I was, at most, startled."

Caleb tilts his head. "Are you sure? You seemed frightened."

"I'm sorry," Fjord says, rolling his eyes. "You were thanking me for something?"

"Yes," Caleb says. "I wanted to thank you for sending me up breakfast. That was greatly appreciated."

"Well, that was all Jester and Nott's idea," Fjord says, ducking his head. "I didn't have anything to do with it. So, really, you should be thanking them, I guess."

Caleb raises an eyebrow. "I will," he says. "You know, that was very sweet of them."

The color in Fjord's cheeks turns a shade ever so darker. "I guess so."

"Oh, very sweet," Caleb agrees, nodding. "Well, I guess I should be going to find them, then. I really only came over here to say thank you for the breakfast, but since it wasn't your idea I guess I still owe my gratitude to the others." He knows he's laying it on a little thick, but hey, it's not often that Caleb catches Fjord in a lie. He might as well have fun with it. 

"Before you go do that," Fjord starts, glancing at Caleb out of the corner of his eye, "do you mind me asking what took you so long to get down to the ship? I was starting to think we were going to have to leave without you."

"Right, well," Caleb says, snapping and summoning Frumpkin to his shoulder, "someone brought it to my attention that my cat was still stuck as an octopus."

Fjord side-eyes Frumpkin. "I bet he's much happier, now," he says, leaning awkwardly away from the cat. 

Caleb laughs. "Yes, much happier," he says, and Frumpkin begins to purr as if in agreement. "See?"

"I see."

"And it gets better," Caleb says, snapping again to dismiss Frumpkin. 

Fjord visibly relaxes once Frumpkin is gone. "Better how?"

"I'll show you," Caleb says, grinning, as he snaps his fingers once more and Frumpkin appears on Fjord's shoulder.

Fjord stiffens immediately. "Caleb, this is a bad idea."

"Oh?" Caleb asks. "Why?"

"As much as I like Frumpkin," Fjord says, turning his head towards Caleb, "I am incredibly allergic to cats, which means when I'm around them, I-"

"Start to sneeze, and your eyes water, and then your throat starts to close up," Caleb cuts in. "I know, Fjord."

Fjord nods. "Right, and so I can't be around him or I'll get really sick," Fjord says, slowly, as if explaining to a child. 

"And yet," Caleb says, "none of those things are happening." Caleb gives Fjord a moment to realize he is not actively dying, before smiling and saying, "I told you it got better."

Fjord laughs once, sharply, as if in relief. "How did- What did you do?" he asks, moving a hand up slowly to pat Frumpkin once on the head.

Caleb shrugs. "It was a collaborative effort," he says, reaching up to scratch under Frumpkin's chin. 

Frumpkin purrs and Fjord laughs delightedly. "This is amazing," Fjord says, tone full of wonder. "I've never been able to be even like three feet away from a cat without getting sick. This is... I don't have the words right now. Just... thank you."

Caleb laughs. "Why are you thanking me?"

"Because you thought of me," Fjord says, softly, "and you didn't have to. It's just nice of you, that's all."

"Well, in that case," Caleb says, nonchalantly, "I guess I should let you know that it was all Jester and Nott's idea, and if you really want to be thanking someone, it should be them."

"Oh, fuck off," Fjord says as he rolls his eyes, reaching out to swat Caleb with his hand. 

Caleb ducks out of the way easily as Fjord's reach is greatly limited by the fact that he's keeping his upper body as still as possible so he doesn't disturb Frumpkin. It shouldn't be endearing, but it really and truly is. "I can't believe this is how you treat the guy that changed his cat for you," Caleb says, clicking his tongue.

"I thought you said it was a 'collaborative effort'," Fjord teases, grinning. 

And that's when Caleb realizes that Fjord's lower canines peek out from under his bottom lip when he grins. They're only just a little bit pointed. They're barely visible. And it's just- Caleb shouldn't have noticed, is the thing. He _wouldn't_ have noticed if he hadn't had that dream last night, but he _did_ have that dream last night, and he did notice, is the thing. And now that he has noticed, it rattles him more than it probably should. "Right," he says, weakly, "I did say that."

He's hesitated too long before responding to Fjord, he can tell by the way Fjord looks at him and tilts his head, his brow furrowed as if concerned. Fjord opens his mouth to speak, but whatever he's about to say is lost to the sound of a cough behind them.

"As much as I hate to interrupt your moment," Beau says, "Orly sent me to relieve you, Fjord, so he could discuss the route with you."

"Oh," Fjord says, as Beau shoulders him away from the wheel. "Thanks, I guess?"

"No problem," Beau says, winking as she salutes him. 

Fjord delicately, and perhaps overly cautiously, picks Frumpkin up off of his shoulders and hands him back to Caleb. "I guess I should be going then," he says, but makes no motion to leave, as he still looks at Caleb with concern. 

"You wouldn't want to keep Orly waiting," Caleb says, evenly, trying to convey to Fjord that he's fine. 

Fjord nods. "I'll see you both later, then," he says, before waving and heading off in search of Orly.

"So," Beau says, after several seconds of silence. "That thing you did, with Frumpkin and Fjord, that was cute."

Caleb sighs. "Goodbye Beau," he says, "I'll see you at dinner."

"Oh, come on, Caleb," Beau says. "I'm just teasing you, a little."

Caleb's already walking away. Even with his back turned, he still feels Beau flip him off.

***

There's a sharp knock on the door shortly after Caleb has retired to his room after supper.

Caleb stills and waits to see if the knocker will go away. It's not that he's trying to be rude, exactly, it's just that, quite honestly, he feels a little 'talked out' after the past couple of days. He's had more intensely personal conversations over the last few days than most people have had in their entire lifetimes, and whatever it is, it can maybe just wait until the morning. Besides, he has reading to do. 

There's another knock on the door. Louder this time, as if whoever is knocking isn't sure whether or not Caleb heard them the first time. Or, if he knows his friends, they're fully trying to wake him up.

Caleb looks up at the ceiling and sighs silently to himself. "Yes?" he calls out.

The door opens then, revealing Nott. "Oh good, you're awake," she says, her voice shaky and her breathing rapid.

"Nott, what's going on?" Caleb asks, sitting up in bed and putting his book down. In that moment, he regrets ever trying to ignore that knock on the door.

"Fjord told me to come get you," Nott says, nervously glancing around the room. "He's calling an emergency meeting."

Caleb gets up and walks over to Nott. "Is everyone okay?" he asks, squatting down to put his hand on her shoulder. 

"What?" Nott asks, distractedly. "Oh yeah, everyone's fine. It's just... you need to come with me," she says, holding out her hand to Caleb. 

"Alright," Caleb says, taking Nott's hand and allowing her to pull him out of the room. "Can you tell me what's going on?"

"No time to explain," Nott says over her shoulder, using her free hand to grab her flask and take a drink. "We've gotta move."

Caleb finds himself being dragged quickly down the hall as Nott has a firm grip on Caleb's hand and will not let him go. She ducks and weaves her way through the halls, Caleb almost stumbling several times as Nott clears a corner quickly and sends Caleb's shoulder knocking into the wall. "Okay, we're here," she says, once they've reached the dining area, and swings the door open.

The sight that greets Caleb when she opens the door is a strange one. The first thing he notices is that the tables have been cleared out from the middle of the room and have been shoved haphazardly against the wall, with most of the chairs stacked up beside them. The second thing he notices is the odd formation that his friends have set themselves up in. Beau stands at the head of the group, clutching several sheets of paper in her hands. Yasha and Caduceus stand on either side of her, a few steps behind and holding a long bundle of fabric between them. Jester sits in a chair just off to the right of where Beau is standing, and she looks deeply uncomfortable. The chair beside her is empty. Opposite Beau, there are two chairs set up, and Fjord sits in one of them. He glances up when Nott and Caleb enter the room, and he looks equally as confused as Caleb feels. 

Nott loudly shuts the door behind Caleb and herself.

 _Ah,_ Caleb thinks to himself, _so this is when it blows up in your face. You knew it was coming sooner or later._

"Oh hello, Caleb," Beau says, and her voice sounds more jovial than Caleb's ever heard it before. "Why don't you take a seat?" she suggests, gesturing over to the vacant seat beside Fjord.

Caleb considers sitting in the seat next to Jester just to be a dick, but- as if reading his mind- Nott quickly rushes across the room and hops up on the chair. Caleb slowly walks over to the last empty chair and sits down. "So," he mutters to Fjord, "I'm guessing you _didn't_ call an emergency meeting?"

"You know, that's funny," Fjord says, lowly, "because I was told I was supposed to come and watch some sort of talent show."

"Well, Fjord," Caleb says, dryly, "I think we've been played."

"Hey, uh, Jester?" Fjord asks through gritted teeth. "What's going on?"

Jester has enough time to quickly wince and mouth "I'm sorry" to Fjord before Beau clears her throat.

"I'm glad you asked that, Fjord," she says, "because that's the question of tonight, isn't it? What's going on?"

Caleb leans back in his chair, closes his eyes, and pretends he's far, far away from this moment. He imagines himself in a library, surrounded by books he's never read before, turning page after page alone in the quiet stillness between bookshelves.

"Caleb, Fjord," Beau continues, "we've all gathered here today to find out what is, in fact, going on. This is an intervention."

The bookshelves are on fire, now, and Caleb opens his eyes. It was a nice daydream, while it lasted. 

"Well," Jester says, shifting in her seat, "it's not _really_ an intervention, because that implies we want you to stop, and that's not necessarily what we're going for..."

"Okay," Beau says, somewhat exasperatedly, "what would you call it then?"

"An ambush?" Yasha supplies.

Beau closes her eyes for several seconds before opening them again. "Regardless of what you want to call it, we're here today because..." she says, trailing off, pointing to Caduceus behind her. "Guys, the banner," she says, when he fails to react.

"Ah, right," Caduceus says, as he and Yasha start to unfurl the bundle of fabric between them, revealing the words _We love and support you!_ painted on what is clearly a bed sheet.

"Because we love and support you," Beau continues, definitely reading off of the piece of paper in front of her. 

Fjord nods twice. "Which is very nice to hear," he says, slowly, "but I'm not sure what that has to do with-"

"Look," Beau says, flatly, sounding much more like the Beau Caleb is familiar with, "this wasn't exactly my idea. I was going to leave well enough alone, because it's none of my business, frankly, what you two get up to. I didn't like the whole 'intervention' idea to begin with, and I didn't want to have to read a speech in front of the class, and I certainly didn't say that I love and support you, much less feel the need to put it on a banner-"

"Yeah, that was us," Jester says, raising her hand, and nodding towards Nott.

"But I'm trying to be a team player, here," Beau goes on, "and it turns out I'm the only one mean enough, or whatever, to call you on your bullshit. Which, again, is none of my business, but the more Jester and everyone else talked about it I realized that, yeah, it is kind of a bullshitty thing that you guys are doing."

Fjord looks over at Caleb with a look of pure confusion on his face. He shifts slightly over in his chair so that his knee brushes against Caleb's. _Do you have any idea what they're talking about?_

Caleb racks his brain trying to come up with an answer. _Something about the blood ritual, maybe?_ his brain supplies, eventually.

_Would they know anything about that?_

_Jester clearly saw it happen, she healed us afterward,_ Caleb reminds Fjord, and feels Fjord wince mentally. _And I think Yasha was there, although I have no idea if she saw anything._ He pauses. _I know Jester definitely told Caduceus about it._

 _Caduceus knows?_ Fjord asks. 

_I did forget to tell you that, yes,_ Caleb thinks. _Do you think that's what this is about?_

Fjord shrugs almost imperceptibly. _I guess we'll find out,_ he thinks, before shifting away from Caleb. "Sorry, what kind of bullshitty thing are we doing?"

Beau stares down at Fjord and then rolls her eyes. "I'm glad you asked," she says, tonelessly. She glances back down at the papers in front of her and shuffles over to the second one. "Caleb and Fjord, while we're happy that you guys found each other-" she says, her voice rising.

"-we're just a little hurt that you felt the need to hide it from us," Jester finishes. 

"Jester, I really don't understand what's going on here," Fjord says, pinching the bridge of his nose. "What, exactly, are we hiding from you?"

Jester wrinkles her nose. "That you guys are dating, now," she says, sounding much more like she's asking a question instead.

"What," Fjord says, flatly, as Caleb groans and leans forward to cover his face in his hands. 

"We just noticed that you guys are together all the time now," Jester says, voice lilting, "and you're going off to spend time alone together, and Orly said he saw you guys holding hands, which was kind of a big, like, _whoa_ moment? And we almost didn't believe him, but Orly doesn't really have a reason to lie to us, so... and then we started noticing that you guys have been touching each other, like, a lot, which is strange because Caleb doesn't really touch people that often. And then we were like, okay, but how do we talk to you guys about it, so we, uh, came up with this! Ta-da!"

Caleb sighs deeply. "So this-" he says, wearily, before cutting himself off. "I'm sorry, this is what you were planning this whole time?"

"Well," Caduceus says, "we thought this would go over a lot easier if we had some sort of strategy, and as you can see, it's going better than we could have hoped for."

"So you've been in on this the whole time?" Caleb asks.

"Not the whole time," Caduceus says. "I was brought in a little later. My suggestion was for us to have a quiet conversation about this over supper, but it turns out it's kind of fun being part of a plan. It's nice to feel included."

"Which brings us to the second part of the plan," Nott says.

Jester frowns. "Nott, we talked about this."

"As I was saying," Nott continues, ignoring Jester, "this brings us to the second part of the plan. Which is the part, Fjord, where I tell you that if you do anything to hurt Caleb, or if you do anything that results in him getting hurt _again,_ I will personally make it so that they will never find your body. Do you understand?"

"Nott," Caleb says, sighing, "while I appreciate your concern, that is wholly unnecessary."

"I don't know," Nott says, playing with the cap of her flask. "Is it?"

"Okay then," Fjord says, lowly, "I'm going to gloss over the fact that I think Nott just threatened me, and I'm going to ignore that none of the rest of you felt like you needed to also threaten Caleb on my behalf, because-"

"Fine," Beau interjects, rolling her eyes. "Caleb, do you promise not to hurt Fjord, realizing that if you do, I will personally rip your arms off and force you to eat them?"

Caleb shoots Beau a look that he hopes conveys the level of _what the actual fuck_ he feels. "Yes?"

"Good," Beau intones. "There, Fjord, are you happy now?"

"Immensely. Really, I just feel so loved right now," Fjord says, dryly, causing Beau to flip him off. "But Caleb's right, it's really not necessary, because Caleb and I aren't dating."

Jester tilts her head to the side. "You're not?"

"Nope," Fjord says, popping the 'p'. 

"Then why have you been spending so much time together?" Beau asks. 

Caleb gently taps his foot against Fjord's. _How much do you think we should tell them?_

 _Enough for them to get the picture, right?_ Fjord asks. _Worked the first time._

"The reason we've been spending so much time together," Fjord says, slowly, "is because after we got back from Dashilla's lair, I started noticing some weird changes happening in me, and then I panicked and went to ask Caleb about them."

"Like what, Fjord?" Jester asks, concerned.

"Avantika had this eye on her palm, right?" Fjord asks. "I can't actually remember if you guys saw it, or not, but that's not really important. She had this eye under her skin-"

"Like a tattoo?" Beau asks.

"No, not like a tattoo," Fjord says, shaking his head, "like a living, moving eye. And- and it looked just like the eye I see in my dreams. Or, uh, one of many eyes."

"Uk'otoa," Jester whispers.

Fjord nods. "Exactly. Anyway, shortly after I found the other orb in Dashilla's lair, I noticed a weird scar on my right palm. Which was the same place that Avantika had the, uh, eye under her skin."

"Are you sure that you don't have a scar on your palm from _something else_ that happened that day?" Jester asks, waggling her eyebrows significantly.

"I mean, maybe," Fjord says, wearily. "And maybe I was just overthinking it, but..."

"But you said it felt different than a usual wound, right?" Caleb asks, looking over at Fjord. "You said... how did you put it? Like it was pulsing, like something was moving under your skin?"

 _Thank you,_ Fjord thinks, sincerely. 

_No problem,_ Caleb returns, just as sincerely. _We're a team, right?_

"Right," Fjord says out loud, although it's unclear which question of Caleb's he's answering. "I know it sounds bizarre, but-"

"It sounded concerning, Fjord," Caleb says, rephrasing. "So I spent some time studying it- with Fjord's permission, of course- to see if I could get rid of it or see if it was, in fact, related to Uk'otoa. Unfortunately, it was far beyond my understanding, so when we got to the Bisaft we sought out a medicine woman to see if she could aid Fjord. Orly, um, helped us with that."

"Why didn't you just come to me or Caduceus?" Jester asks, sounding hurt. 

Fjord glances at Caleb out of the corner of his eye. "I didn't want to worry you unnecessarily," Fjord says, leaning forward in his chair. "She, uh, wasn't really able to tell us anything we didn't already know, anyway."

"I wouldn't say that," Caduceus says, smiling, "now you know something you didn't know before."

"Which is?" Fjord asks.

"That when you hide things from people- especially when those people are your friends and they don't understand why you wouldn't just be _honest_ with them- they sometimes jump to the wrong conclusions," Caduceus says, gently.

Fjord nods, swallowing audibly. "Right."

"Or the right ones, yes," Caduceus says, looking pointedly between Fjord's right hand and Caleb's. "But again, how will they know unless you be honest with them?"

"I think Fjord meant 'right' as in he was agreeing with you," Jester says, "and not in that he was suggesting that people also sometimes jump to the right conclusions. Also, I think he might have meant it like, 'thanks Caduceus, I get it, please stop lecturing me now,' because that's what I meant when my mom was telling me that I shouldn't steal clothes from the men who use her services so they would have to walk out naked, and I knew I was gonna keep doing it because it was funny, but I also didn't want her to know that-"

"So to be absolutely clear," Beau says, over Jester, "you guys aren't dating? You were just holding hands and sneaking around to, I don't know, check Fjord's body for eyeballs?"

"Yes," Fjord says, exasperatedly.

Nott nods. "I mean, in a lot of ways, it makes much more sense."

"So we can stop holding this banner now?" Yasha asks.

Jester nods. "I think they got the message," she says. "To be clear, though, we do still love and support you even if you aren't dating."

"Thanks, Jester," Caleb says, sighing.

"Oh, you're welcome," Jester says, beaming. 

"And we all seriously believe that they were just checking for orbs?" Beau asks. "Like, that tracks for everyone? Even you, Caduceus?"

Caduceus shrugs. "I believe Fjord when he says they're not dating," he says, diplomatically. 

"Because we aren't," Caleb says.

"And look at that," Caduceus says, "now I believe Caleb too."

Beau narrows her eyes. "But can we be sure? They just flat out admitted they were hiding something from us."

"Okay, look," Fjord says, groaning, "if Caleb and I ever start dating, I will let you guys know. That sound good to everyone?"

"And how are you planning on letting us know if you don't want to tell us anything because you don't want to 'worry us unnecessarily'?" Nott asks, complete with air quotes.

Jester gasps. "Guys, should we create a code word?"

"Sure," Fjord says, "if the code word is me saying 'Caleb and I are dating', because I feel like that covers it."

"Imaginative," Beau says.

"Alright, how about this, then?" Fjord asks, flipping Beau off.

"Fjord!" Jester exclaims, scandalized. "Apologize!"

"I'm sorry," Fjord says, sounding anything but, before getting up from his chair. "Now, if we're done here, I'm gonna head out, because I don't know about the rest of you, but I found this whole thing," he says, gesturing in a circle around the group, " _exhausting._ I am physically, and mentally, exhausted. So now I'm going to go to bed, and in the morning I am going to forget that all of this just happened, because while I'm glad it was fun for all of you, it wasn't really that fun for me."

Beau rolls her eyes. "Fjord, come on. You have to admit this whole thing was at least a little bit funny."

"Do I?" Fjord asks. "Look, maybe this was a really funny joke to you guys at the time when you were planning this, but I guess I needed to be there, because I sure didn't find this funny. Not even a little bit. Like, none of this was okay, you know that right? This was your big plan? You thought two of your friends were dating, got upset that they didn't tell you about it, and so you created a whole scheme to, I don't know, get them to fess up? Because it's way more fun to make banners and think up code words than to just talk to your friends, right?"

"Fjord," Jester says, "that's not what we were thinking at all."

"Then what were you thinking?" Fjord asks. "Did it not occur to you that maybe Caleb and I were spending time together because we're friends? Was that so far-fetched? I guess it must be, or maybe it's just way easier to assume that we're fucking instead of believing that maybe someone actually likes me or cares about me. Because while you guys were busy planning this clusterfuck instead of asking questions, Caleb actually bothered to ask me what was going on. Actually bothered to check in with me, by the way, about the Avantika situation. You know, how I felt about sleeping with her? Or, you know, how everyone in the group assumed I wanted to do that? Because I actually didn't, I don't know if you guys knew that, or not. But, again, maybe you should have asked. And it just feels weird," Fjords says, jaw clenched, "coming off of that conversation and going right into this one, where again, my friends are assuming that I'm sleeping with someone, or that I want to sleep with someone, just because they show even some interest in me. Do you guys really think that's all I'm good for?"

"Of course not, Fjord," Beau says, crossing her arms. "Don't be ridiculous."

"The thing is, I don't know if I am being ridiculous," Fjord says. "Maybe it just feels worse, this time around, because I actually genuinely like Caleb. A lot. I like spending time with him, and for the first time in a while, I was actually having fun. And I don't know how you guys saw that and felt like it was something sinister and that you needed to threaten me on his behalf, because obviously I must be taking advantage of him or something. Or how when we tell you what's actually going on, you think that makes way more sense than us dating ever would. Because nothing during our time together has ever indicated that I might actually give a shit about Caleb, right? And look, I'm glad you all had a great time planning this and I'm glad it brought you all together," Fjord says, shaking his head, "but I've never, in all my time travelling with you guys, felt more alone, because I think I just realized that you guys don't actually know me at all. It just really feels like you guys made me the butt of your shitty joke, and you know what? Maybe that's fine, because at least now I know where I stand."

Jester looks up at the ceiling, blinking back what appear to be newly-forming tears. "Fjord, that's not fair at all. You can't really believe that's how we feel about you."

"I honestly don't know how you feel," Fjord says, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Well, why don't you ask us then?" Beau asks, voice sharp. "You keep saying we haven't been asking you how you've been feeling, so why don't you man up and ask us? Or is it just easier for you to stand there and yell at us and act like we don't actually give a shit about you? Because maybe if you actually asked us, you'd find out that we planned this whole thing because we do give a shit about you, Fjord! And because we give a shit about Caleb, too! So don't stand there and act like you're the only one who cares about people. And I agree with you, this whole thing got way out of hand, but you do understand that we're the fools here, right? At no point was the joke on you."

"And yet I still feel like the punchline," Fjord says, rubbing his temples. 

Beau exhales harshly. "And if you want to think that, go ahead! By all means, keep feeling sorry for yourself. And if you want to blame someone, feel free to go ahead and blame me. Because if you think for a second I'm going to let you blame anyone else, you are out of your mind, Fjord. The fact that you might even think that Jester- who literally came to me with a banner that said _We love and support you!_ , by the way- would somehow plan this whole thing to make a joke out of you is ridiculous, Fjord. That you could think that anyone here had anything but the best intentions is ridiculous, but if you want to get mad at someone, get mad at me. Like I said at the beginning, I was the reluctant one. I didn't give a shit about what you were doing or how you were feeling, but the rest of these people did, and they came together to support you."

"And again, I'm glad this brought you all together, I really am," Fjord says, dragging his hand down his face. "Because Caduceus is right, it's fun to be included. And I guess I just don't feel very included, right now. So like I said, I'm going to go to bed and forget this ever happened, and then I will see you in the morning. Good night." 

"Good night," Yasha says, quietly, as Fjord crosses the room. 

Fjord hesitates at the door. "Good night, Yasha," he returns, equally as quietly, before exiting the room. 

Beau lets out a yell of frustration as soon as the door closes behind Fjord. "You know, what? Fuck him," she says, afterward, throwing up her hands, papers scattering everywhere. "He can go fuck himself, for all I care." 

"Beau," Nott says, wincing. "He can probably still hear you." 

"Good!" Beau shouts towards the door. "Fuck you, Fjord! How fucking delusional can you be?" 

"Beau, he can probably still hear you," Nott repeats, gently, getting up to tap her hand against Beau's leg, "and I know you won't feel the same way in the morning, but he'll still have heard it." 

Beau frowns. "Yeah okay, but why did he have to blow this whole thing out of proportion? Why couldn't he have just taken it like Caleb did?" 

"We don't actually know how Caleb took it," Jester says, sniffling. "He hasn't said a word for the last five minutes, and it's not like we remembered to ask him how he was feeling, either." 

"Okay," Caduceus says, gently. "Then why don't we ask him? Caleb, how are you feeling?" 

And that's a good question, but it's not one that Caleb has an answer for yet. "I don't know," he says, and it's the honest truth as far as he knows how to tell it. "Come back to me." 

"Alright," Caduceus says. "Well, then I guess I'll say that everything went much better than we could have hoped for."

"How?" Jester asks, wiping her eyes with the backs of her hands. "Fjord hates us right now, and I don't know, maybe he should."

"But he probably has been hating us for a while now," Caduceus says, lifting up the makeshift banner and covering Jester's shoulders with it, "and now he's laid it all out there, and he's stopped hiding from it. I think he's been carrying those feelings around with him for a long time, and I think he's been hurting for even longer, but now we get a chance to be better. We get a second chance, now, to be his friends and to be there for him. But for right now, as strange as it may seem, if we want to be there for him, we have to do that by leaving him alone. And we'll leave him alone for as long as he needs, and when he's ready to talk to us again, we'll start by asking him how he's feeling."

Nott sighs. "You know what? That doesn't sound like a bad plan."

"That's what we said about the last one," Jester says, groaning. 

The corners of Beau's mouth twitch up ever so slightly. "Yeah, maybe we should avoid making plans for a while."

"Agreed," Jester says. "Seriously, does anyone have a tissue?"

Caleb still doesn't know how to feel, doesn't know how to feel about just about anything at this point, so again he closes his eyes and imagines himself far, far away. But when he closes his eyes, he doesn't see rows of bookshelves, and he doesn't hear the eerie quiet of the library. Instead, he's back on the beach and Fjord is walking away from him. Fjord is _angry_ at him, and Caleb doesn't know how to make it better, doesn't know how to make him listen, until he reaches out and tells him the honest truth, as far as he knows how tell to it. 

"Caduceus," Caleb says, upon opening his eyes, "when Fjord's ready to reach out to you again, I think you guys should ask him how he's feeling, that's- well, it's a good start. And it can't be a quick thing over breakfast, because Fjord's going through a lot, right now, and you're going to have to be prepared to listen to all of it."

"I am," Caduceus says, with the slightest of smiles, sitting down in the chair that had previously been Fjord's. "We care about him too, Caleb."

"I know," Caleb says, swallowing. "I don't know if this was the best way of showing it, but I think I got what you were going for. Just, maybe next time, try to be a little more upfront and honest about what you're doing."

Caduceus's smile grows. "I think next time we'll need to have fewer cooks in the kitchen. That, or we'll have to focus on making a meal, instead of a bunch of side dishes."

"Sure."

"Or," Caduceus says, "we'll remember to ask our friends what's going on instead of jumping to conclusions."

"Yeah, that sounds much better," Caleb says, and he finds himself smiling as well. 

"I'm glad," Caduceus says, patting Caleb on the knee. "Now, I think what everyone could use right now is a good pot of tea."

"You know, that reminds me," Caleb says, reaching into his jacket pocket and pulling out Eugenie's sachet of tea. "I know Fjord told you a little bit about the medicine woman that we went to go visit, but what he didn't have time to mention is that she was also a really big fan of tea, and when she heard you were too she made this so we could give it to you. It kind of slipped my mind, we've been so busy the past couple of days."

Caduceus's eyes widen, and he reaches out to take the sachet from Caleb. "That was very kind of her," he says, lifting the sachet up to his nose and breathing in. "It smells-"

"Awful?" Caleb asks, poorly hiding his grin. "It smells awful. You can say it, we literally just talked about being honest with each other."

"I was going to say," Caduceus says, laughing, "that it smells like it has potential. It just needs a little love, and I think it could be great." Getting up from his chair he asks, "so, are you going to stay for some tea, then?"

Caleb looks down at his hands, where he's been absentmindedly tracing his scar. "I think I'm going to head out, too. I wouldn't mind some fresh air."

"Well, would anybody else like some tea, then?" Caduceus asks the group. 

"As tempting as that sounds," Beau says, "I should probably head up onto the deck too. I mean, I could be wrong, but I don't think Fjord exactly stormed off to go steer the ship, and someone should go relieve Orly. Besides, you wouldn't mind some company, would you Caleb?"

Caleb sighs and wonders how he, an only child, ever found himself with the material plane's most annoying younger sister. "Of course not," Caleb mutters. "I wouldn't mind at all."

"Good," Beau says, grabbing Caleb's elbow and pulling him to his feet, "because we've got things to talk about."

***

"You know," Beau says, later, once she's relieved Orly from his post, "as much as that did not go according to plan, and it really did _not_ go according to plan-"

"I'll have to take your word for it," Caleb says, shivering in the cold night air.

Beau rolls her eyes. "What, are you cold or something? It's beautiful out here," she says, badly hiding a shiver of her own.

Caleb rolls his eyes in kind, and snaps his fingers, summoning Frumpkin to rest on Beau's shoulders like a scarf. "You were saying?" he prompts.

"Right," Beau says, smiling as she scratches Frumpkin behind his ear. "Like I was saying, as much as everything did not go according to plan, the biggest surprise, for me, was finding out that you and Fjord are not actually dating."

Caleb finds his cheeks warming up, which at least helps with the cold, some. "And why's that?"

"Oh, I don't know," Beau says, faux-casually, "maybe it's because he acts like the sun shines out of your ass?"

"Beau," Caleb starts, in warning. 

"No, seriously," Beau says. "Look, I did a whole bunch of things for Fjord today, most of them before you even got your sorry ass out of bed. I ran the money over to the dockmaster to pay for boarding and repairs. I helped raise the sails. I re-did our entire inventory when Fjord suddenly switched the plans on us and told us- last minute!- that we were going back to the Empire instead of some other island. And my point is," she says, noting Caleb's expression, "that none of that made him smile more than you changing your cat so it doesn't make his face puff all up, or whatever."

"I'm sorry, Beau," Caleb says, after a long moment. "But if you're feeling underappreciated by the group, please know that we value your contributions."

Beau squints at him. "You know," she says, "from anyone else that would sound extremely condescending, but I think you genuinely mean it, so, uh, thanks. But seriously, Caleb, Fjord honestly thinks you know everything, that's how deep in he is. Someone could ask, 'hey, what's Caduceus making for supper?' and he'd be like, 'well gosh, I bet Caleb knows, let's go ask him'. He thinks the world of you."

"I think, quite possibly, that you may be exaggerating," Caleb says, smiling despite himself.

"No, I most definitely am not," Beau says, taking her hands off the ship's wheel to make a gesture, and Caleb rushes to grab the wheel. "You do realize it takes a lot to get this ship to turn, right?" Beau asks, raising an eyebrow. Regardless, she puts her hands back on the wheel.

"Fjord feels the same way about everyone in the group," Caleb says, when he feels comfortable enough to take his hands off the wheel. "He's constantly impressed by the way you're able to take down the people, or uh, other things, that we come up against."

"Sure," Beau says, "but I also punched an entire weird fucking snake monster thing to death with him before we met you, which was, you know, kind of a big deal, and even that didn't impress Fjord as much as some wizard he just met changing silver coins in a bowl into gold ones, so take that with a grain of salt." She furrows her brow. "I told you about that, right? The weird snake thing?"

Caleb nods. "It may have come up."

"And even if Fjord finds everyone in the group impressive," Beau says, "he's still choosing to spend literally all his time with you, not the rest of us. I bet the only reason he's not talking to you right now is because he's sulking."

"He's not sulking."

"Oh, I think you'll find he's sulking," Beau says, "but that's not really important. What's important is that Fjord's been spending all his free time with you, and not to mention, he's been doing you all these _favors_ lately."

Caleb feels bile rush up his throat and something deep within his heart aches. "Wait, what?" he asks, and he wonders if it isn't him that's been a fool all along. "Could you maybe repeat that last part?"

"You hadn't noticed?" Beau asks. "Yeah, he's been doing favors for you _constantly._ He just paid for your breakfast the other day. He volunteered to go shopping with you, and we all know how much he hates shopping. He got Nott to leave breakfast for you in your room this morning, and I can confirm through insider information that that was definitely Fjord's idea," she says, glancing over at Caleb. "The insider was me, in case you couldn't tell, because I was there, Caleb. Plus he pulls out your chair for you like all the time, dude, have you really not noticed that? And I'm, like, pretty sure that half the reason that he wants to head back to the Empire is for you."

"No, he's doing that for you," Caleb says, without thinking. He finds himself still wanting to defend Fjord, despite everything, and he hates himself for it, hates himself for hoping that- "Sorry, Beau, but I have to go."

"Oh," Beau says, sounding taken aback, "were we done talking, then?"

"Did you have anything else to say?" Caleb asks.

Beau frowns. "Not really, but-"

"Then, I'll see you tomorrow," Caleb says, before heading off in the direction of Fjord's quarters. 

He lets Beau keep Frumpkin. She wanted company, after all, and she'll need him to keep her warm.

Caleb will be fine. He feels pretty fucking heated as it is.

***

Caleb knocks on Fjord's door, and tries to ignore how bad he feels about doing it, knowing that Fjord had asked to be left alone.

There's the sound of movement coming from behind the door shortly after Caleb knocks, and the door opens slowly. "Oh, thank gods it's just you," Fjord says, sounding relieved. "Uh, what brings you here?"

"Nothing much," Caleb says, nonchalantly. "I just finished having a conversation with Beau."

"Oh, did she apologize to you?" Fjord asks, tilting his head.

"Not exactly," Caleb says, "but when we were talking, she mentioned something interesting. She said you've been doing all these favors for me, lately?"

Fjord's cheeks flush dark green, and the voice at the back of Caleb's brain that he hates thinks, _Aha! We've caught him now, Widogast!_

"She, uh," Fjord starts, before bailing. "She noticed that?"

"She did," Caleb confirms. "And look, Fjord... I get it, I really do, but you're smarter than this."

Fjord stares at Caleb for a long time, his facial expression completely blank. "Okay," he says, "before I say something that I might regret, do you want to explain to me what you're talking about?"

"The favors," Caleb repeats, like that will somehow get his point across. "I didn't even notice it until Beau pointed it out to me, but it makes sense, doesn't it? We had our conversation with Eugenie, and then you started doing all these favors for me, and- And I get it. I get it, Fjord. I want to get rid of this _thing_ between us as much as you do, trust me on that, but I know you were there when Eugenie said it had to be a big favor, Fjord. And everything you've been doing is really sweet, freund, but it's not going to break a curse," Caleb says, shakily. "Come on Fjord, you're smarter than this."

"Yeah, right back at you," Fjord says, dryly. "Wow," he says, shaking his head, "you really weren't listening to what I was saying earlier, were you?"

The questions throws Caleb off. "Fjord, I-"

"Save it," Fjord says, sighing. "It's getting late, maybe you should just go to bed."

"Have I said something to upset you?" Caleb asks. "Because that wasn't my intention, Fjord."

"You're unbelievable, you know that, right?" Fjord asks, looking pained. "Good night, Caleb, I'll see you in the morning," he says, closing the door.

Caleb finds himself staring at Fjord's closed door again, and tries to ignore how, despite everything that has just transpired, despite his growing confusion and distress, hope has started to bloom within him once more. He takes his friend's suggestion and heads to bed, because Fjord's right, Caleb will see him in the morning, and maybe, just maybe, Caleb had been listening to what Fjord had been saying earlier, after all.

***

Caleb wakes to the sound of crackling embers, followed closely by a heavy creaking sound. A noise Caleb knows, instinctively, to be the sound of a roof giving way. Sure enough, Caleb watches as a section of the roof caves in, sending a new batch of embers sailing up through the air.

It's just... It's been so long since he's had a dream of his own that for a second he's able to fool himself into thinking it's Fjord's, but there's no salt water in his lungs now, only smoke.

And the air is thick with it. Smoke hangs heavy in the air, making it almost impossible to breathe. But Caleb does, and breathes in the smell of incense, burning acrid-sweet. The smell of wood burning after a rainstorm. The smell of hay catching fire. The smell of something else, still, beyond that. The smell of flesh burning, sickly sweet; the smell of fat melting off of the bone. 

The roof of the house creaks again, and Caleb has reached the decision point. Run, or stay where he is. If he starts now, if he runs as fast as he can, he can make it to the house before the roof caves in completely. He can make it before they're gone. But he's already hesitated too long as it is. He'd come up short again, just like the last time, and the time before that, and the time before that.

And it would still be worth it, Caleb knows. Anything would be worth it to see their faces again, to hold them in his arms, to be able to tell them the things he never got to say the first time. "I love you," he says, most nights. "Goodbye."

Some nights are better still, because he makes it to the house in time to apologize. Some nights, he gets to say, "I'm sorry." And it's not enough, it will never be enough, but it's what Caleb has, now. 

Some nights, the best nights, the nights where Caleb has long since started running for the house by this point, his mother is still aware enough to hear him say it. And she'll reach up, with whatever remaining strength she has left, and cup his face in her hand. "Caleb," she'll say, with incredible intensity, "Vergissmeinnicht."

And Caleb will get to say, "I don't think I ever could," and he will get to have those be his last words to her, instead of the ones he has now, which are so much worse.

But he could say goodbye again and again, and it wouldn't change the fact that he hadn't been able to say them when it counted.

"Caleb," Fjord asks, hesitantly, "where are we?"

And that? That is a new layer of torture in and of itself. 

A low chuckle reverberates in the back of Caleb's mind, scratching its way to the base of his skull and pulling. _What do we do with traitors, Caleb?_ Ikithon asks him. _We burn._

There's three bodies up on the hill ahead of him and one body beside him. Fjord stands at his left, his right hand on his falchion, and his left foot planted forward. Is he planning to run or is he planning to stand his ground? "Caleb," Fjord says again, with urgency this time, "what are we doing here?"

"You can't be here," Caleb rasps, reaching towards his belt, feeling for the familiar weight there. _You were never meant to see this, my freund._

"Caleb?" Fjord asks. "We need to move, now!"

"I am so sorry, Fjord," Caleb says, before moving quickly and jamming his dagger deep into Fjord's chest. As he pulls his hand away he catches vague glimmers of feelings- betrayal, hurt, resignation.

Caleb closes his eyes and when he opens them Fjord is gone. Caleb closes his eyes once more and when he opens them again three others surround him.

The smallest of them, the girl child, steps towards him. "What do we do with traitors, Trent?" Astrid sneers.

"We burn," Caleb answers. He knows the game by now.

Trent raises his hand. "On your knees, Caleb."

Caleb sinks to his knees before his captors, arms extended out in front of him. He will not fight this.

"Eodwulf, if you would be so kind," Trent says.

Eodwulf is suddenly at Caleb's back, one hand on Caleb's shoulder and other in Caleb's hair. "It's nothing you don't deserve, Caleb."

Caleb thinks of Fjord, thinks of betrayal and hurt and resignation, and can't find it in himself to disagree.

The hand at Caleb's shoulder moves without warning, and Caleb just barely sees a glint of silver before Eodwulf's dagger slices his throat and everything goes dark.

***

Caleb wakes to the sound of a door slamming open and with a crushing pain in his sternum.

Fjord stands in the doorway, his gaze steely and his jaw set, his right hand clutching at his throat. "Captain's quarters, now." 

And it's been a while, but Caleb still recognizes an order when he hears one. "Yes," he says, getting out of bed. "Captain."

Fjord turns on his heel and heads out the door, and with no other choice, Caleb follows after him. 

Once they reach the Captain's quarters, Fjord firmly shuts the door behind them and locks it. "Have a seat, Caleb," he says, gesturing to the chair stationed across from Avantika's desk.

"Alright," Caleb says, and does as he's told.

Fjord finds his own seat on the surface of Avantika's desk. "Caleb, I don't actually know where to start," he says, after several seconds of silence pass between them.

"You must have questions, don't you?" Caleb asks. "So ask them."

"Okay," Fjord says, tapping his heels against the front of the desk. "Why'd you stab me?"

Caleb narrows his eyes. "After everything you just saw, that's the question you start with?"

"Look," Fjord says, "maybe that's the only question I've got. You're talking to the guy who has regular dreams where he talks to a sea serpent. I've seen some weird shit, okay? So yeah, maybe, just maybe, right now my biggest concern is why my friend stabbed me. Now, answer the question."

"Because I had to do something to get you out of there," Caleb says. "And I'm not happy I had to do it," he adds, looking down at his hands, "but I can't bring myself to regret it, either."

"And that's just it," Fjord says, exhaling loudly, "I don't understand what could be so horrible about a dream that you'd feel like you'd need to stab me over it. You've seen my dreams with Uk'otoa, you know what that's like, if that's not enough to send you running, nothing is. Whatever this is, Caleb, I can handle it."

"You say that now," Caleb says, "but I don't actually think that you can."

"Why not?" Fjord presses.

"Because it's easier for you," Caleb says, picking at his cuticles, "because your dreams are just easier. And I know they're horrifying, and I'm not trying to minimize that in the slightest, Fjord, because if anything it scares me how used to them you've become. But they're still easier, Fjord. You wake up, you move on with your day, and you get to know that it was just a dream. But I don't get that consolation, Fjord, because it's not just a dream for me."

"Caleb," Fjord says, "I'm not sure I'm following you."

Caleb blinks rapidly, trying to fight against the stinging in his eyes. "Fjord, what did you see before you woke up?"

"Caleb," Fjord says again, his voice soft, "are you okay?"

"Just- just tell me what you saw," Caleb says, "please, Fjord."

"We were at the bottom of a hill," Fjord starts, after a moment, "and the house up on the top of the hill was on fire. And someone was screaming, I don't know if you heard that, you seemed pretty out of it."

Caleb closes his eyes. "No, I didn't."

"That's alright," Fjord says, "it didn't last for very long. I was more focused on the people on the top of the hill, I... it looked like they were coming towards us, and given the circumstances I didn't exactly think they were friendly. At some point I must have summoned my falchion, and I remember looking at you, trying to figure out what to do, but you weren't responding. But then I heard this voice," Fjord says, his own voice wavering, "at the back of my mind, and at first I was relieved, because I thought was you, but then it didn't sound like you at all. And it said _'what do we do with traitors, Caleb?'_ "

Caleb looks up at Fjord, sharply. "Please, don't-"

"And I guess the answer is _'we burn'_ ," Fjord finishes, "and suddenly the house on fire made a bit more sense." 

"My house," Caleb says. 

A weird expression flickers over Fjord's face for second. "What?"

"That was my house," Caleb explains. "After."

"After what?" Fjord asks. 

"After I set it on fire," Caleb answers. 

Fjord looks at Caleb, brow furrowed. "No, you didn't," he says, "I was with you the whole time, Caleb. Those other people, they set your house on fire. It's not your fault, you know that, right Caleb? It's just a dream."

"But it's really not," Caleb says, his voice cracking. "After Eugenie's," he says, persisting, "after you were angry with me, I told you... I told you that I had done things that were inexcusable. I told you that I had done some terrible, awful things and you asked what could be so bad about them that they might make you ask me to leave one day. Well, Fjord, this is as bad as it gets."

"Caleb, you're freaking me out," Fjord says, his hands gripping the edge of the desk tightly. "What are you talking about?"

"This wasn't supposed to happen this soon," Caleb says, wringing his hands, "I was supposed to have more _time._ Because I still want more time, Fjord. I want more time to be able to come up with the right way to tell you this. I want more time to be able to figure it all out. But mostly, I want more time with you, with all of you, because I like you guys, Fjord. I like this team- this family- that we've made for ourselves, and I'm not ready to give that up yet, but I don't see how I'm going to be able to keep it after this. Because my time's up, now, and I'm still not brave enough to tell you everything." 

"I like this family too," Fjord says, his voice softening, "and I want more time with you too. Whatever you need to tell me, it can wait, Caleb, I'm not going anywhere."

Caleb shakes his head, standing up from his chair. He's slightly taller than Fjord now, which should make this next part easier. "Fjord," he begins, as he closes the space between him and Fjord.

"Caleb," Fjord returns, looking up at him with wide eyes, "what's happening?"

"I still don't know how to tell you everything," Caleb says, reaching up with his left hand and placing it against Fjord's cheek, "but maybe I can show you." 

He closes his eyes and leans his forehead against Fjord's. _Please don't hate me._

Something brushes against his right wrist and then Caleb feels fingers thread through his own, hands pressing palm to palm, scar to scar. _How could I?_

_You're about to find out,_ Caleb thinks, and everything begins to change.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few notes:
> 
> 1) Introductory quote is once again borrowed from TV On The Radio's "Wolf Like Me". What can I say? It's a good song.
> 
> 2) I realize I promised last chapter that this chapter would be shorter, and it really was intended to be, until, like everything else in my life, it took a turn. At least it maybe kind of makes sense now why it took more than a month to write? Maybe? I haven't checked the exact word count on this thing, but conservatively it feels at least twice as long, if not longer, and it caused me to spend many a night pulling out my hair, but hey- the next chapter's gonna be shorter, right?  
> Right?
> 
> 3) In case you were wondering, the deck of cards that Fjord does not buy in the Escritoire is absolutely a Deck of Many Things, because nothing while writing this made me laugh more than the idea of Fjord "Blood Ritual" Tough- as piloted by Travis "Craven Edge" Willingham- not buying a deck of cards because they seemed too mundane. Also, another "fun fact", the Escritoire was originally called the Bibelot, until during my research I realized that Matt had already named a store that during this campaign, and the whole thing felt a little too "monkeys at typewriters" to keep in.
> 
> 4) Which brings me to the "Intervention" scene, which was initially supposed to be way more lighthearted, and instead came out like that. While I was writing it, I kept thinking back to Scanlan, covered in pudding, yelling at his friends for not understanding him, for not bothering to ask him how he was feeling, and... And I guess the moral of that story is some "monkeys at typewriters" moments you keep.
> 
> 5) Also, God Bless Matthew Mercer for giving me a perfect narrative hook to explain why the group suddenly wanted to head back to the Empire. Except then I totally forgot they didn't talk to the Crownsguard, they talked to the Concord, but hey, canon divergent, baby. And then in-game the group decided they also wanted to head for the Empire, so not so different after all, except this time Fjord doesn't get to control water. 
> 
> As always, thanks for reading. Man, I couldn't even keep the notes shorter. Fuck.
> 
> P.S. The reason Fjord's so thrown when Caleb tells him he has something difficult to say, and then goes into his apology, is because Fjord was like 90% sure Caleb was going to tell him that he, like, had a huge crush on him or something, because Fjord's a huge dork and is maybe not as good at flirting as he thinks he is.


End file.
